Through Time
by Thessily Thessilonikki
Summary: When four Hogwarts students are brought to the time of the Second War, they unite with the students of their school to battle the dark forces of Lord Voldemort, and learn that there's more to life than keeping up a petty feud. Complete.
1. Prologue : In The Looking Glass

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Through Time

Prologue: In the Looking-Glass

_Harry Potter walks the halls of Hogwarts School, wrapped in the Invisibility Cloak, his slippered feet making no sound on the stone floors.__ The cloak makes the slightest of whispers on the stone as he moves along the deserted corridor._

_He stops, looking up. It seems as though he stands before a mirror, looking at an image of himself that he knows cannot exist. There is a boy, same dark hair, same glasses, standing there, holding the same sort of lamp._

_Harry opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly the other boy turns and opens his mouth in a scream, but no sound ever escapes. Harry catches a brief glimpse of three other figures flickering faintly in the hallway before the image of him disappears._

Harry woke with a start, his scar burning, as usual. He reached up and rubbed at it gently, hoping to ease the pain and clear his head. He sat up and slid out of the bed at Number Four, Privet Drive. This dream was different. All summer, he dreamt the same dream, the same as last summer, of wandering down a corridor. Before, it had never been inside the school, and he had never met himself.

Something nagged at the back of his mind. Something about his mirror image bothered him. Something had been off—he couldn't have seen himself in any mirror while wearing the invisibility cloak.

He pulled out a piece of parchment and began a letter to Hermione, with a sharp pang of sadness for the fact that he normally would have also penned a letter to his godfather. A solitary tear wound it's way down Harry's cheek as he dipped in quill in the bottle of ink and began to write.

~`~

James Potter woke with a start, sitting up in his bed in the sixth year boy's dormitory of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Pain was lancing through his forehead, and he reached his hand up, expecting to feel blood there. There was nothing, just the slowly receding pain.

He looked around the room, noting the Saturday morning sunlight streaming through the windows—they were likely to miss breakfast yet again. He looked around, noting that none of the other occupants of the dormitory, in various states of sleep. Sirius Black slept in the bed next to James's own, his pale arm extending out through the half-parted draperies. Across the room from James was Peter Pettegrew, sprawled spread eagled in the middle of his bed. At the top of the room, surrounded by windows on either side of the bed, slept Remus Lupin, the last of James's closest friends, and the one he would pester with his Divination textbook to find the meaning of the dream. Remus had managed to switch ends of the bed during the night, and had his head sticking over the end of the bed, his pillows and blankets half on the floor.

James got up and walked the length of the room, still in his pajamas. The fifth occupant of the room was absent, a fact that did not surprise James. Frank Longbottom did his best to ignore the other boys he shared the dorm with. James threw the window curtains open completely and let the sunlight stream into the dim dormitory. 

Then, a mischievous smile stretching across his face, he walked across the room and picked up his wand. One word of Latin and an enormous bang echoed around the room, having the desired effect of waking the other Marauders. Sirius rolled off the bed, Peter let out a shriek, and Remus banged his head on the footboard.

"Bloody hell, Prongs," Sirius said, his voice muffled as he attempted to disengage himself from the bed hangings, which had followed him on his abrupt descent to the floor. Remus was glaring at James, rubbing the lump that was growing on the back of his skull.

"Woke you up, didn't it?" James asked, smiling, self-satisfied.

"Don't do it again," Sirius said, using his wand to magic his drapes back into place. He said it with the air of threat that never meant anything to James, but always made Peter gasp.

"Whatever you say, Padfoot," James said. He changed into his robes and waited for the other boys to ready themselves for breakfast. Remus looked at his watch.

"Hurry, or we'll not have any breakfast," he said, and the quartet raced down the stairs, through the Gryffindor Common Room, and down to the great hall.

During breakfast, James leaned close to Remus to whisper as Sirius embarked on his usual loud let's-make-fun-of-Snape routine.

"Remus, I need you to help me." James whispered.

"With what?" Remus asked, his words muffled around a huge bite of toast. It was unlike James to admit that he needed help.

"Well, I had this dream. I was in the hall, and I saw myself, except it wasn't me, it couldn't have been, because I was under the … cloak. And when I woke up, it was like someone had stabbed me in the forehead." James spilled out quickly, unable to look at Remus.

When he looked up, Remus had dropped his toast and was staring at James.

"What?" James asked.

"James, this could be SERIOUS, do you know that? I mean, really." Remus said.

"I know, I know. I knew you'd say that," he said. Then he sighed. "Please don't tell Sirius, okay? He'll think I'm mad."

"He already does," Remus said, the ghost of a smile playing across his lips.

James frowned. "Okay, mad-er, then," he corrected, a sparkle lighting up his dark eyes.

"I'll look, James. But I can't guarantee I'll find anything." Remus said.

"It's the thought that counts, right? Besides, stinging pain in the head accompanying dreams has to be in a book somewhere, right?"

"Right."


	2. One : Step Forward

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Through Time

One: Step Forward

The Hogwarts Express roared away from King's Cross station at exactly eleven o'clock, as usual. Harry was slouched in a seat in a compartment toward the back of the train, not alone, but wishing he were. Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley's animated conversation wasn't working wonders for the headache that throbbed through his skull. Luna Lovegood stared dreamily in Neville's direction.

The door burst open suddenly and Hermione Granger came rushing in, thrusting a folded piece of parchment into Harry's face. Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley, followed close behind her.

"That's the solution," Hermione said triumphantly.

Harry stared at her. "To what, exactly?" he asked.

"Your dream." She said, smiling. Neville and Ginny dropped into silence, and looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione. Luna seemed oblivious.

"What dream?" Neville asked. The group was a whole lot closer since their great battle at the end of term. Harry opened his mouth to explain, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Harry saw himself, and woke up with his scar hurting, except it wasn't him, because he was wearing an invisibility cloak," Hermione said.

"And it wasn't my eyes. And the glasses were different," Harry said. Hermione turned to him.

"You didn't tell me that." She said.

"Guess I forgot." Harry said, shrugging.

"You bloody well better remember next time you have details," Hermione cried. Harry's eyebrows attempted to detatch themselves from his forehead. Did Hermione just swear? She snatched the paper back from him and lit it with her wand. It curled into a tiny ball of ash and disintegrated. She sighed. "Back to square one."

Ron groaned. "All that work for nothing?" He asked. Harry could see he was fighting the urge to laugh. Ginny giggled, but covered it with a cough. Hermione looked exasperated.

~`~

Harry had the dream again that night, for the twenty-fourth time. He knew—he'd been counting. The more times he had the dream, the more he was sure that it was his father he was seeing, and not himself. The three vague shapes in the background were still a mystery, but he had a guess as to who they could have been.

Harry slid from his bed, careful not to wake the other occupants of the room. He wrapped the Invisibility Cloak around him and made his way down the stairs and out of Gryffindor tower. He wandered the halls, unable to sleep, until he found the place where the dream always took place.

He walked down that hall, thinking.

Suddenly, there was nothing.

~`~

James liked to pretend that he hadn't had the dream again. Nothing Remus could find in any Divination book, any dream interpretation book, said anything about dreams causing sharp pains in the dreamer's head. They had taken to looking up curses and hexes until late in the night, before finally recruiting Peter, Sirius, and Lily to help them. The five of them stayed in the library until they were sent away.

It was December before they had any luck. Finally, Lily thought that she may have found a clue to the dream—the dream that had recurred twenty-four times in the last month. Peter had the flu, and was convalescing in the hospital wing. The four of them—Sirius, Lily, James, and Remus—took the book and headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room, where it was warmer, and decidedly more comfortable.

They were walking down a lesser used hall, on their way back, when the lights suddenly flickered out, and cast them into total blackness. James could feel nothing, hear nothing. He couldn't reach out and touch Lily beside him, and he couldn't hear Remus and Sirius's lighthearted bickering anymore. He felt an odd sensation in the center of his chest, not unlike taking a portkey, though the pulling was higher up in his body.

Suddenly, he felt dizzy, and thought that he might vomit. He felt pressure crushing him from all sides, and he reached out blindly for Lily, for Sirius, for Remus, but found no one.

James was grateful when the overwhelming pressure forced him into unconsciousness.

~`~

"...and I bloody well know who they are!" Harry heard vaguely as he began to wake. "I saw them every day when I went to this school! Potter—either one of them!—did this somehow!"

"Severus, I somehow doubt that either Harry or James could have managed such a difficult spell on his own," Dumbledore said calmly.

"How else would you explain the abrupt presence of these four in the halls of the school?" Snape hissed. "If Potter couldn't do it alone, then would you put it past Granger to help him? Or—" Snape broke off, flustered. "Lupin?"

"Severus," Dumbledore repeated, "the spell that has been used to bring Miss Evans, Mister Potter, Mister Lupin, and Mister Black forward through time is far too complicated for even the brightest Hogwarts student to perform. I myself am incapable of performing the spell," Dumbledore admitted calmly.

Snape sputtered, furious.

Harry's heart was pounding in his throat. Professor Lupin and Sirius were here? How? Sirius was… Harry couldn't even bring himself to think the word. How? And through time? Harry's head began to pound, and he sat up.

"Ahh, Harry. Good to see you awake." Dumbledore said.

"This must be some sort of record, Mister Potter, "Professor McGonagall said. "Already unconscious on the first night of term." She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, smiling slightly. "And as for you, er… Mister Potter," McGonagall said, "I would like to know what you and the rest of these hooligans were doing out so late."

"Mm, sleepin'." Harry heard someone say. "Go 'way."

Harry looked in the direction of the voice, and thought that he might pass out again. He was looking at himself. Or what seemed to be himself, with slightly different shaped glasses—the other boy in his dream.

His father.

"Well," Dumbledore said. "Let's get everyone alert so we can sort this out." He clapped his hands together, and the other three occupants of the room woke, slowly moving into sitting positions.

"How did we get in here?" the pretty red-headed girl asked. "A minute ago, we were in the hall, and—SIRIUS!" She said suddenly, turning to the dark haired boy who sat on the floor next to her. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Sirius protested. Harry could do nothing but stare at the younger version of his Godfather, and the girl who would be his mother.

"I really don't think he did it, Lily," said the final traveler, looking up so that Harry got a glimpse of a very familiar, very tired face. Harry knew him. He was Professor Lupin, former schoolteacher and werewolf, or the boy that would become the former schoolteacher. It looked like he was already a werewolf. 

"Very correct, Remus," Dumbledore said. "It is none of the faults of you all here. Now, Harry, I believe you recognize all present?"

Harry nodded, mutely. He and James were having a sort of staring contest, each staring into what seemed to be his own face, with only a slight difference—their eyes. James had the briefest feeling of looking into Lily's eyes, but much older, much more tired.

"How did this happen?" McGonagall asked, sinking into a chair.

"We must believe that it is all part of the plot of the dark Lord," Dumbledore said. "That is the only plausible explaination."

"The Dark Lord? You-Know-Who?" Lily asked tentatively.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "You must understand that through curious circumstances, you have been removed from your time and brought forward, whether to help or hinder our cause, I do not know."

"What cause?" Sirius asked. "Because I don't really think I need to get involved in any cause."

"I told you he was useless," Snape interrupted. Dumbledore gave him a sharp look. Sirius looked up at Snape.

"Snivellus?" He asked, incredulous. "Why are you here? Why are you old?"

"Sirius," Lupin groaned. "Were you not listening? Nevermind, I know the answer to that. We were brought forward through time, unfortunately. Thus, Severus is older."

"And—" Sirius began, but Lily clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shush, Si," she said. Sirius bit her hand, and she squealed. "Foul play!"

Harry turned, fascinated by the interaction between his mother and his Godfather. James turned to Dumbledore.

"Who's he?" he asked, pointing at Harry.

Dumbledore hesitated, unsure if he should tell the four travelers who the boy who looked like James, but with Lily's eyes was. He decided that he could always use a memory charm on them, if need be.

"He is your son, James." Dumbledore said.

"Sorry?" James said, more than a bit startled. "I don't have a son? I'm only sixteen, and even if I did have a son, he couldn't be MY age."

"Yes, but since you are several years into the future, you do have a son, and he is sixteen. He also, is Lily's son." Dumbledore said.

"If he's James's son, how can he be… oh. Oh my," Lily said, comprehension dawning. "Oh my." She repeated. Sirius stared at Harry as though he'd grown a second head, and it was a head that sported great oozing pustules and had extremely sharp, very green, rotted teeth. Lupin went paler, if possible.

"So you're saying that Lily and I… and he…" James stuttered. Snape was on the verge of breaking into cackles. He would have laughed, had he been less evil. He would have been giggling, if he were less dignified.

"Yes, in the interim between your time and Harry's, you marry, you breed, and you have this brat," Snape clarified. "And you name that idiotic git over there his godfather. Then you get betrayed by Peter, and you all die."

"Severus," McGonagall said severely. Snape smirked at them.

"We die?" Lupin asked?

"Oh, not you," Snape said, looking at the werewolf. "You, unfortunately, survive."

"Severus," Dumbledore said, warning in his voice. Snape went quiet, and Dumbledore proceeded to relate all the events he thought that James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus might need to know. In the end, Lily was sitting with her arms around her legs, stunned, James was running his fingers through his hair, Sirius was gaping open mouthed, and Remus was barely breathing. Tears streaked Harry's cheeks from the telling.

"Well," Remus finally said, turning golden-brown eyes up to the headmaster. "How do we get home?"

Dumbledore smiled at the young werewolf, but it did not reach his eyes.

He had no idea how to send the four home.


	3. Two : Dilemma

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Through Time

Two: Dilemma

"They cannot be allowed to attend classes." Snape said. He glared at McGonagall across the table. The witch glared back, her eyebrows contracting and making her countenance severe, indeed.

"Correction," she said. "James cannot be allowed to attend classes. His appearance is too similar to Harry's and would raise unwanted questions. Remus could be a problem as well. As for Sirius and Lily, it should be simple for them to attend. No one will recognize them."

"Of course not," Snape snarled. "But the second someone calls Sirius Black on the roll, and they'll know."

"Then you can bloody well teach them yourself!" McGonagall shouted at Snape.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said calmly. "Severus is not qualified to teach all lessons."

McGonagall sighed. "How will they learn anything?" she asked plaintively.

"I shall think of something," Dumbledore said. McGonagall relented and sank back in her seat.

In the adjacent room, Lily sat on the edge of a table, swinging her legs back and forth, watching her shoelaces brush the floor. James sat in a chair as far from her as he could get, in a sort of catatonic state, his gray-blue eyes unfocused and unblinking. Sirius sat on the table in front of him, waving his hand in front of James's staring eyes occasionally. Remus had covered his head with his cloak and was vainly pretending that none of them existed. Harry had been sent back to Gryffindor Tower.

Suddenly, a sob broke over the room. Remus slowly uncovered his head, and Sirius turned to look at the source of the sound. James leaned so that he could see Lily.

She had covered her face with her hands, and her slender shoulders were shaking with sobs. Sirius looked away, unsure of what to do. What did one do with a crying female? This was out of his league. Remus walked over to her, and sat down on the table next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder and doing nothing more but giving her something to cling to. James felt a surge of jealousy rush through him.

"Lil, it's okay," Remus said softly. "Really. We'll get back, I know we will."

"And then what?" Lily asked. "We get back to our own time, just to die in a few years?" Her voice rose, and cracked as the word die passed her lips. James flinched.

"Look at it this way, Lily," Remus said, still trying to comfort her. "At least you know that you fell in love, and you had a child that you loved so much that you're still protecting him, even in death."

Lily looked up, seeing tears sliding down Remus's cheeks as well.

"I'm just scared, Remus," she said. "I mean, I'm sixteen, okay? I don't want to die."

"You won't be sixteen when you die," Sirius put in helpfully. Lily started to cry again.

"Shut up, Padfoot," James snapped. Sirius held his hands up in defense.

"Sorry," he muttered. He watched as Remus carefully composed himself, then tipped Lily's face up to look at him.

"Lily," Remus said, his voice as soothing as he could make it, "yes, you're going to die. James is going to die. Sirius is going to die. I'm going to die. Dumbledore, McGonagall—everyone—they're all going to die. From the moment you're born, Lily, you're dying. Some of us just get to die sooner than others."

"You're not making me feel any better, Remus," Lily snapped. Remus sighed, his breath fluttering her hair.

"Think about it. You died to save someone. You died so that someone else could live." James said, walking across the room. "Both of us did."

Lily looked up at him, the same green eyes James had seen shining out of the other boy's face, though these were still innocent, and filled with tears. James reached out and hugged Remus and Lily, who were still hugging, to his own body.

"Aww! Guys!" Sirius cried in a high pitched tone, and Lily, whose head was shielded from view by James and Remus's bodies, suddenly felt as though she were being crushed as Sirius squeezed them all further together. Then she felt a hand on her bare side, where their desperate hug had pulled her shirt up over her ribs. She took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of Remus, soap and spicy potions ingredients and forest and the underlying scent of wolf.

"Sirius, that better not be your hand," she said, her voice muffled by Remus's shirt. The hand withdrew, and Sirius let them go. Then James, sitting back, smiling brightly. Reluctantly, Lily let go of Remus as he pulled away. She suddenly felt cold, and alone. And scared.

The door opened and McGonagall came in, trailed by a small army—not really an army, maybe, perhaps a platoon, instead—of house elves. They carried clothes, linens, pillows, and, at the very last, came four with a massive tray of food. Sirius licked his lips as the smell of the food reached them.

"Until we come up with a better idea, you will remain in this room," McGonagall said. She drew her wand and created a partition that divided the room into halves a third of the way across. "I would love nothing more than to allow you to attend classes, but as Professor Snape so kindly" her pronunciation of that word left no doubt in the minds of the four travelers that anything Snape had said had been kindly "pointed out to me, Miss Evans is the only one of you who would not be recognized by our students in some capacity." Another flick of her wand produced four cots, and the house elves quickly spread them with the linens, and adorned them with the pillows, placing a neat stack of Hogwarts regulation robes on the end of each cot. The tray of food was slid onto a table, steam rising from large goblets and plates. Sirius was practically drooling.

McGonagall looked at all of them, and sighed. "I have placed the partition so that Miss Evans, should she tire of you, might have privacy." She said. Sirius began to move toward the food, but McGonagall stopped him. "A moment, Mr. Black. We are currently thinking that it might be best if a glamour is used upon the four of you. Professor Snape is currently researching potions that will allow your appearance to be altered, similar to Polyjuice. After this is achieved, you will be incorporated into each of the houses, covered by a story that Professor Dumbledore will concoct at his leisure." She gave a great sigh as Sirius stared at her with his eyes wide and brown and very, very much like the dog she did not know he was. "Fine, Sirius, you may eat."

"YES!" Sirius said, and scrambled toward the massive platter of food and drink. McGonagall, had she been less of a lady, would have rolled her eyes. She settled for leaving the room entirely.

Lily wandered over to look at the school uniforms that rested on the boy's cots. She reached out one finger and tentatively traced it over the yellow and black striped tie that lay there. She looked down at the trunk that sat at the foot of the cot, and saw the name. She picked up the tie and waved it in the air.

"Hey Si," she said. He turned and looked at her, gnawing at a drumstick. She flapped the tie at him.

"So?" he asked, his mouth stuffed with food.

"You get to see what it's like to be in Hufflepuff," Lily said, grinning. Sirius looked aghast.

"Look on the bright side, mate," James said. "It could be Slytherin."

"Uh, James?" Lily said, holding up the tie from the next cot. James's face went totally white and he dropped his fork. Sirius burst into laughter.

"Can't get any worse than that, Prongs!" He cried through his laughter. James fumed, staring at the green and silver striped article in Lily's hand.

"Remus is going to be residing in Ravenclaw… fitting, since he's so smart. I guess that leaves me in Gryffindor." She said. James pouted over his food, and did not pick up his fork. Lily walked over and picked a couple of chips up from his plate, popping them into her mouth. She grinned at him.

"Bugger," He muttered. He didn't eat any more, but slumped off to the cot, tossing the uniform onto the floor at the foot and sprawling out.

The sun was beginning to peek through dusty curtains when Dumbledore strode into their tiny room. He performed the same spell that James had that first morning when he had had the dream that woke him with the pain in his forehead—the pain he knew now corresponded to the same pain that the boy who would be his son had. The four travelers woke sharply.

"Good morning," Dumbledore said serenely, a smile on his face. Lily glared at him, her red hair rumpled and falling in her face, clutching the blankets up to her chest. Remus lifted his head from the foot of his bed. James sat up, startled, eyes wide, then he looked from Remus to Sirius, a frown creasing his forehead. Sirius tumbled off his cot, hitting the floor with a sound thunk.

"I would be your culprit, James, and not your friends," Dumbledore said, merriment in his eyes.

"I wasn't thinking they did it, more wondering how Sirius always manages to fall off the bed when someone does that spell." James said, eyeing the larger boy to one side of him. He turned and looked at Remus, who was still lying with his head off the end of the cot, his hair sticking straight up—or down, as was the case. "I was also wondering if Moony actually goes to sleep at that end of the bed or sort of flips around."

Remus shrugged. Dumbledore laughed lightly.

"If you would quickly dress and return to my office, I will fill you in on the story that you will be using while you are trapped in this time," Dumbledore said. James started to speak, but Dumbledore held up a hand. "No, you cannot switch houses, James," he said. "In time, you will see that there is a reason for my placing you where I have."

He turned, and with a swirl of long robes-- a dark velvety color, like the night sky—spangled with stars, he left the room.


	4. Three : Potions, Names, and Secrets

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe.

Through Time

Three: Potions, Names, and Secrets

James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus stood at the foot of the stairs to Dumbledore's office, almost afraid to ascend. Lily was smoothing nonexistent wrinkles in her pleated wool skirt—student regulation, and slightly shorter than in her own time, but other than that, her uniform was the same as the one she had been wearing when they were brought forward through time. She had her crimson and gold tie thrown loosely around her neck. She reached out tentatively and took hold of Sirius's hand.

Sirius was blushing slightly, remembering all the times he'd made jokes about Hufflepuff students, calling them fat, or slow, or less magically inclined—though not in so many words. Now he sported a yellow and black striped tie, a grey sweater trimmed in black and yellow, and robes with the Hufflepuff crest embroidered on the chest. He reached out, and slid his hand into James's, searching for any comfort his best friend could provide.

James was pouting. James was sulking. James alternated between a pout and a sulk, his green and silver tie shoved in his pocket, and his robes open and folded so that the Slytherin crest was hidden. He was also pouting because Lily would neither stand by him, or look at him, but that was a different story entirely. He, sensing the trend, squeezed Sirius's hand and reached out for Remus's.

Remus was perfectly comfortable. The color of his tie did not bother him. The crest on his robes and the trimmings on his jumper, likewise, meant nothing to him. He would not know the people here, and thus it did not matter where he lived, because the only people he DID know would be somewhere else. He adjusted the blue and silver striped tie that was tucked neatly into his jumper, and squeezed James's hand.

"I suppose we have to go up," He said. No one moved. Remus sighed and stepped forward, pulling James along with him, and, subsequently, Sirius and Lily. The four of them trooped up the stairs, past the gargoyle, and into Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore was waiting for them, his hands clasped upon the desk. He smiled at them as they entered, still clenching each other's hands.

"As you all know, it would raise too much suspicion for us to simply say that you are transfer students. That is simply not done." Dumbledore said. "But, in the past, we have, on occasion, employed trainee teachers, particularly in times of great strife."

"But we aren't trained—" Sirius began.

"Ahh, but you are from a different school, and thus not as learned as those students from Hogwarts. There have been gaps left in your teaching that must be filled while you are here in training." Dumbledore said. "You will also serve to assist the Heads of House while you are here. I know that you are young, but it is my hope that you will learn what it means to be responsible for other people." He looked pointedly at James and Sirius.

"Sir, if I may interrupt," Remus said tentatively, watching the headmaster. "I will need to… escape once a month… and someone will have to fill in…"

"Since your time, there has been a potion developed that, while it does not stop the change, prevents the wolf from becoming violent," Dumbledore told him. Remus nodded, his face pale.

"You will each assist one teacher for the duration of your stay. Lily, you have excelled at Transfiguration, and will work with Professor McGonagall, as well as assisting with the younger Gryffindors through these dark times." Lily smiled, a little embarrassed at Dumbledore's praise.

"Remus, you will be of most assistance to Professor Flitwick, though you have shown skill at every subject you have undertaken. You will operate in the same capacity as Lily as far as working within Ravenclaw house." Remus simply nodded, and gave James's hand, still gripped in his own, a hard squeeze.

"Sirius, you and James were a source of much deliberation as we made these decisions. You were placed into Hufflepuff for the sole reason that perhaps it would deflate your ego to be in the house you have so often made fun of. Also, Herbology was one of your better subjects, if I recall correctly. You will assist Professor Sprout within the House." Sirius suddenly wished that he had not joked about the intelligence of the Hufflepuffs, but given the alternative, he would gladly take Hufflepuff any day.

"We decided that you, James, would most benefit from being in Slytherin, and working alongside Snape—do not make that face, Mr. Potter—working alongside Snape for your stay here. Perhaps it will do the both of you some good.

"Now!" Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. "We shall go to breakfast." Suddenly he stopped. "Oh my, I almost forgot." He picked up three neatly labeled glass vials from his desktop. "It could have been very terrible indeed, if I had let you leave my office without giving you these." Each bottle contained an amount of brightly colored liquid, which all three boys eyed suspiciously as they took the bottles from Dumbledore. "I expect to see you in my office before breakfast every Monday," he told them. "This potion will alter your appearance just enough so that you aren't recognizable as James Potter, Sirius Black, or Remus Lupin. Along with the vials is a false name that I am afraid you must use while you are out of your own time, lest suspicious questions be raised."

They drank, and Dumbledore led them from his office.

~`~

Harry hoped that when he woke, it would all be some sort of weird dream. He dressed quickly, seeing that he had overslept, and hurried down to breakfast, sliding into his seat between Ron and Hermione, and opening his mouth to tell them of the dream he'd had of his mother, father, godfather, and Lupin coming to Hogwarts as sixteen year olds.

As he opened his mouth to speak, he caught a flash of red hair, sparkling in the sunlight that streamed down from the bewitched ceiling. He looked up, expecting to see Ginny Weasley, but this girl was definitely not Ginny. Harry felt as though someone had punched him, and he could not breathe. It hadn't been a dream after all, because there she was, his mother, real as life, and walking down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.

Harry completely missed what Ron was saying.

"Err… what?" Harry asked, unable to take his eyes from the girl who would one day be his mother—and be killed by Voldemort. Ron turned to see what Harry was staring at, and nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

"Bloody Hell," he said, looking at the girl. "Why've I not seen her before?"

"Ron, I've got to tell you and Hermione something, but I can't do it here. And it involves her." Harry said. Lily had sat down at the end of the table, alone, and was having breakfast.

Hermione slid into the seat across from Harry at that moment. "Involves who?" she asked, looking at Harry. Professor McGonagall was making her way down from the teacher's table, and she stopped next to the new girl, handing her a sheaf of papers that Harry knew were schedules. They spoke for a moment, and the girl proceeded to help McGonagall.

"Her," Harry said softly after the girl had passed them, handing Hermione a schedule. Hermione watched the girl as she walked away.

"I've seen her before," Hermione said, spreading jam on a slice of toast. "I'm sure I have."

"You have," Harry said, feeling ill suddenly, and he no longer wanted to eat. He stood. "Come on, and I'll tell you."

Ron grabbed a stack of toast, shoved a sausage link into his mouth, and followed Harry, Hermione trailing after them with her toast and a pastry. They went into the courtyard, and Ron and Hermione sat on a stone bench while Harry paced back and forth, attempting to wear a trench in the stones.

"Okay, Harry," Hermione said after five minutes of waiting and Harry saying nothing. "Where have I seen her before?" she asked.

Harry stopped and looked at Hermione. "In pictures. She's my mother," Harry said.

"Harry, she's our age. She can't be your mother." Hermione said. Ron gaped at Harry in disbelief.

"He has gone mad," Ron said.

"No!" Harry cried. "Listen."

He told them the whole story, starting with the dreams he'd been having all summer, and culminating in the extraordinary time-travel of Lily Evans, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. For a while, Ron and Hermione stared, unsure what to say. Ron was positive Harry was raving mad, but Hermione was unsure. She wanted proof. Facts.

She looked up at Harry.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"How else did they get there? You've said so, so many times that you can't Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds, so what's another explaination?" Harry demanded. Hermione looked taken aback, startled at his outburst.

"Sorry Harry, it just seems so illogical…" Hermione said.

"I know," Harry said. He shook his head, his untidy dark hair flying around. "But Hermione… my dad… he really does look just like me, except for his eyes."

Hermione sighed, then stood and hugged Harry. He looked startled for a moment.

"Hey," Ron said. "We've got Charms first," he said. "And we'd better get going."

The three hurried down to their first class of term, Charms, with Professor Flitwick. Harry had noted, disappointedly, that he still had Potions, as he needed it to go into training to be an Auror. He HATED Potions. 

They settled themselves along one long table inside the Charms classroom. The entire class was buzzing with whispers. Then tiny Professor Flitwick tottered in, followed by a young man with shaggy blond hair falling around his face, golden-brown eyes, and full lips quirked in a slight smile. Only someone who had known Remus Lupin as a student at Hogwarts would be able to tell that this young man was him, underneath the blond hair and the subtle changes to the shape of his face—slightly sharpened cheekbones, a stronger line of jaw, a nose with a light lump in the middle, eyes more pointed and upturned. Remus had caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror on his way to breakfast, and had been pleasantly surprised. The dark circles that ringed his eyes constantly were gone, and he was even slightly tanned. He smiled at the class.

"This is my trainee teacher," Flitwick said in his squeaky voice, "Romulus Syclo. He will be assisting me in this class, as well as helping to keep watch over the newest additions to Ravenclaw."

Some of the students looked at their neighbors, eyebrows upraised. Flitwick did not elaborate upon the new addition to his class, but simply set them to work, a quick review of the charms they'd learned the previous year. Hermione took the time to whisper to Harry.

"I suppose that was one of them?" She asked.

"Yes," Harry said, his mind half on Lupin, who was walking through the class, sometimes doing the spell himself.

"I don't recognize him," Hermione said. Harry leaned exceptionally close to her.

"I think it's Professor Lupin," he whispered.

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"Come on, Hermione, think." Harry said. "Romulus was raised by wolves, built the city of Rome…" Harry began, leaving it open for Hermione. Then she blinked, realizing.

"And his twin was Remus," she said loudly. Then she realized what she had done, as 'Romulus' looked her way, his eyes wide. Harry shook his head quickly.

"But it was Romulus who built Rome," Harry said, trying to cover their blunder.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "I was trying to change it about."

"That's okay," Harry said. 'Romulus' made his way over to them, and, under the guise of watching Harry and Hermione perform a simple spell, he whispered to them.

"Wait after class," he said. "But try to be very discreet."

Hermione gave the slightest of nods, and Harry made as though trying to get a wand motion right, and bobbed his head along with his hand.

"No," Remus said, putting on an air as a trainee professor. "It's more of a slashing motion. Again, Miss..?"

"Granger," Hermione said, and smiled. "Hermione Granger."

"Could you demonstrate that again for Mr. Potter?" Remus asked.

"Certainly," Hermione said, and complied.


	5. Four : Opportunity

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe.

Through Time

Four: Opportuninty

Harry, Hermione, and Ron hung back after Charms, acting as though still packing their books and quills into their bags. Remus walked quickly to them after the last student had left the room, and the voices had faded down the hall.

"I suppose you've told them already?" he asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"No one told me I couldn't," Harry said. "Even if someone HAD, I would have told them anyway."

"Yes, well," Remus said. "Could you be a bit more discreet about knowing? If someone found out, and this got back to the Ministry of Magic…"

"I wouldn't worry about them," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Bunch of worthless gits, that lot."

"This is Ron," Harry said, a smile creeping across his lips.

"Ah," said Remus, smiling, and offering his hand to Ron. Ron shook his hand.

"You might worry about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, though," Ron said.

"For the last time, Ron, it's Voldemort. How many times have I told you that fear of a name—" Hermione cried.

"Only increases fear of that person. Excuse me for being raised to fear him like a good little wizard." Ron said.

"Oh, don't start!" Harry cried. Remus stood there, feeling awkward, scuffing his shoes on the stones of the floor.

"You'd better be going," Remus said. "I just want you to, you know, keep all this quiet."

"Sure, sure," Harry said, and hustled Ron and Hermione out of the room.

The day passed uneventfully, until N.E.W.T. Potions (Hermione and Harry had taken it because they needed it to go into Auror training, but Ron had not wanted to remain in Snape's class, even if he had gotten the proper grade required), which was really no different from a regular Potions class.

They were queuing up outside, waiting to enter, when the shouting began on the inside. The words were incoherent, but suddenly, the heavy dungeon door flew open, revealing a boy with light brown hair, and hazel eyes, red-faced and angry, holding the door for them.

"I'm Ja… Jeremiah James." He said. "The trainee teacher under Snape."

Harry stared at the boy in shock. His hair was neat and tidy, light brown, and his features, though still handsome, were sharper, and harsher. Vaguely, he still looked like Harry, like they may have been related, or it was just an odd coincidence. He slammed the door closed as the last student entered, and stormed back to the front of the room, where Snape was standing, wand in hand, arms crossed and looking very greasy, and very formidable, at the same time.

"You have already met my… trainee, I see," Snape said. "Now. He will not be teaching this class. You will not take questions to him, even if I am busy, as I am the teacher, and he is not. Remember that, now. The first rule…"

Harry tuned Snape out as he spoke at length about what he expected of his N.E.W.T. Potions class, knowing that if there was anything important, Hermione would tell him. He watched James, who spent most of the class sitting upon a stool, a frown drawing his eyebrows close together as he glared at Snape, bright spots of color over the tops of his cheeks.

Harry paused in the doorway as they were leaving the classroom, to look back at his father. James had not moved from the stool, but had moved so that he was looking only at the floor, his arms crossed over his chest. Harry and Hermione were the last ones to leave the room, and even then, she had to walk back to him, when she realized he had stopped. She put her hand gently on his arm.

"I'll go tell Ron where you are if you want to wait and talk to him," She said softly, looking up at Harry. He nodded his head, but did not move, even though Hermione turned slowly and continued down the corridor. But Harry did not move forward to talk to James.

He turned and hurried after Hermione. She stopped and waited for him, as he ran down the cold, empty corridor, away from having to face the boy who would one day be his father.

"Why?" Hermione asked, her voice soft.

"I just couldn't," Harry said.

"You will," Hermione said. "Don't worry."

"I'm scared, Hermione," Harry admitted. "Of everything."

"I understand," Hermione said, and for once, she really did. She didn't know what it was like to not have parents, and she didn't know what it was like to watch someone die right in front of her, but she knew what it was like to be scared.

She reached out and took Harry's hand, and they went upstairs to the Gryffindor Common Room.

It was shortly before midnight, and Harry was sitting alone by the fire, Hermione long since gone to bed, and Ron gone since he'd dozed off and slid from his chair.

He heard the clock strike midnight, and considered going up to bed, but didn't feel like moving. He heard the door of the girls' dormitory close, and soft footsteps making their way across the common room to the fire, but he did not turn. It was probably Hermione, come to make sure he'd gone to bed.

The girl moved to stand beside Harry's chair, but she said nothing. Finally, Harry turned to find himself looking up at her. Lily Evans. His mother.

Her hair was like liquid rubies in the light from the fire, shot through with gold and bronze. She stood there in her nightdress, just looking at him, her green eyes reflecting back the fire that burned in the grate, eyes that he saw when he looked in the mirror, except hers were not shadowed by grief and pain, or despair.

"I wanted to talk to you," She said. "I mean, about… you…"

"I don't…" Harry said. "I don't know what to say to you. If you'd never known your mother, and suddenly here's this girl who'll someday BE your mom, but right now she's your age, you probably wouldn't know what to say either."

Lily sat down in the chair next to him. "No, I might not know what to say, but I'd want to get to know her as much as I could, since I never… got to know her. I mean, you never knew me, right, because You-Know-Who killed me. And now someone's saying, hey Harry, here's a chance to meet your mom!"

Harry closed his eyes. He felt as though someone had stabbed him in the chest, and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't remember his mother. He had no memories of her holding him, singing lullabies to him. He couldn't remember what she sounded like, how she smelled. He'd never had her wipe away tears when he fell and skinned his knees.

"Harry," She said, and he opened his eyes and looked up at her, seeing tears glittering in her green eyes. "I'd want to take the only opportunity I might ever have."

Suddenly, a sob slipped out of Harry, startling him, startling Lily. "Don't make Wormtail your secret keeper," Harry said. "Anyone but him. Sirius, Dumbledore… I know he offered, and I can't understand why you wouldn't…"

Lily reached out and gripped his hand, crying herself. She reached out and put her arms around him, hugging him tightly. She felt as though she was his mother, the woman she would become, holding her sobbing child in her arms. Harry breathed in, taking in the scent of her, imprinting it on his brain, so that he could remember her always, that his mother smelled like flowers and being outdoors.

Lily slid to the floor, pulling Harry down with her, gathering him into her lap and rocking him, even though he was sixteen and not a child. It didn't matter, with his sobs shaking her body, this boy that she had never known.

Lily made a vow in that moment. She wanted to track down the Dark Lord, and she wanted to rip him apart with her bare hands, for what he had done to Harry. She didn't want revenge for her own death, or for James's, who she had apparently loved very much. She wanted to make Voldemort pay for causing her son to grow up in the Dursley household, because if the way Petunia treated her over the summer when she was home, Lily did not want to imagine how they had treated Harry for ten years.

No, Lily Evans, who would one day be the wife of James Potter, and the mother of this tired, emotionally drained, but far from broken child who was lying with his head tucked against her shoulder, wanted to destroy Voldemort for the sake of this boy.

The sob that slipped from her lips was lost in Harry's own. She understood why she had given her life for this boy, and knew that, when she returned to her own time—and she would, she was sure—she would not remember this, but she knew that she would have her love for her child burned into her. She and James had to choose Peter, to make Harry who he was. Anyone else, and everything could have been so different. She and James could have lived, could have raised their child—but how many more people would have died?

Lily held Harry until he fell asleep, exhausted from the release of all the tears he'd never been allowed to shed for his mother. She lay him down on the floor, unwilling to wake him, and covered him with a fuzzy throw that had been draped over the arm of a chair. She tucked a pillow under his head, and stood.

Lily looked into the dying embers of the fire, a plan forming in her head. She knew that, in this time, Voldemort was back. Twice already he had tried to take Harry's life. Lily was determined not to let it happen again.

She crept back up to her room in the girls' dormitory, her mind working frantically. She wanted to put this fledgling plan into motion as soon as possible.

As though her life depended on it.


	6. Five : Goals and Plans

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe.

Through Time

Five: Goals and Plans

Draco Malfoy hated all Gryffindors. Without exception.

Until he walked into Transfiguration, second day of term, his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and saw Professor McGonagall's trainee professor. Draco Malfoy decided to make an exception to his personal rule for this girl. Several exceptions, in fact, starting with Draco Malfoy does not like red-heads, and continuing down through all rules regarding the ignoring and not flirting with, nor dating, persons residing in Gryffindor House.

He was, of course, quite annoyed when the incredibly beautiful, Transfigurationally talented—had he mentioned beautiful?—Lily was found to be perched on a desk after class, telling Harry Potter her life story, as he listened intently. Of course, Harry would get to her first.

Draco was sure he had smoke streaming from his ears as he stormed from the Transfiguration classroom. Then he calmed himself, smoothing back his hair and standing a bit taller. He was Draco Malfoy, the son of a long line of talented witches and wizards (if you could ignore the fact that his father was currently in prison for being a Death Eater, which his mother often reminded him of and warned him to be careful who he hexed), and he could out charm Potter any day of the week. Except maybe on Saturday, when there was a Quidditch match. The thought brought Draco's blood to a boil.

He had a goal, and Draco always achieved his goals. And right now, his goal was to have Lily Evans.

~`~

Harry, Hermione, and Ron slogged through ankle deep—it seemed—mud to the greenhouses on Tuesday. Ron carried Hermione's knapsack as she leaned against Harry as they slid down the grass. A young man with blond hair was holding the door open for them. Harry knew this had to be Sirius, because who else could it have been? He was the only trainee professor they had yet to meet.

Harry looked up at him as he walked by with a thoroughly mud-spattered Hermione. This was, by far, the most complete transformation. Sirius looked nothing like what Harry had known of his godfather, and nothing like the handsome young man he had met in the corridor two nights previous. Aside from the blond hair—as natural as if he'd been born with it—Sirius's eyes were blue, and his features had softened, smoothed, until he had an almost pretty, androgynous look to him. He flashed a smile at the sodden trio as they squished into the greenhouse.

Professor Sprout stood at the end of a long table, covered with dirt and shriveled little plants that let out a squeak as Ron reached out toward one. He snatched his hand back, and Harry laughed, earning himself a silencing look from both the professor, and Hermione.

"This is Black," Professor sprout said. "He asks to be known only by that, considering his first name of Mugwhomp to be quite embarrassing." Sirius blushed dark and the class laughed. "Anyway, before you on the table, you see things that look like roots. Please pull on your gloves before you touch them."

"I wonder what they do if you touch them without gloves?" Ron asked.

"They sting you," Sirius said, leaning between Ron and Harry. "And then you get big blisters all over where you touched."

He held up his hand as an example. Hermione gave him a look of disgust.

"Sprout didn't warn me," Sirius said, grinning.

"Shouldn't you have known?" asked Ernie McMillan, who had already taken a dislike to Sirius after seeing the way the girls—particularly his girlfriend-- were mooning over him.

"I've never seen them before today," Sirius admitted.

"You've graduated, Mugwhomp," Ernie said, stressing the name. "You ought to know."

"My apologies for being forced to attend a second rate wizarding school," Sirius hissed, bright roses of color blooming in his pale, smooth cheeks. He stared Ernie down. Though his eyes were a different color, and his face much more innocent, the gaze seemed to have the same effect on the Hufflepuff prefect, and Ernie turned away.

While the class was wrestling with their plants, Hermione leaned over and whispered to Harry.

"Did you talk to Lily last night?" Hermione asked.

Harry eyed her, unsure whether he wanted to tell her what had happened. He hadn't even told Ron. Not that he would have told Ron that he'd broken down and cried in the arms of a really, really pretty girl—even if it was his mother—at sixteen years old, anyway.

"Yes," Harry said slowly, concentrating on getting the roots of the plant buried firmly in a pot.

"And?" Hermione prompted.

"Hermione…" Harry said.

"You don't have to tell me," she said. "I understand."

Harry looked at her and smiled. "Thank you," he said. She nodded, understanding that it would take him time to be able to tell her about what had happed that night with Lily. It was his business anyway, and if he didn't want to tell her, she wasn't going to force him to.

Hermione reached out her gloved hand and put it over the back of Harry's, then closed her fingers and squeezed. Her touch was light through the thick dragonhide gloves, but Harry knew her hand was there. He stepped closer to her with the tiniest of movements, and they continued working through the rest of the class period in silence, never breaking the contact between the sides of their bodies.

~`~

The four time-travelers met up in the Library shortly after dinner, grouping together in the darkest corner, where they were least likely to be overheard. Lily pressed back into the corner pulling James against her side, and motioning Sirius and Remus closer.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked, searching Lily's face.

"Two days in this strange new world, and she's already got a stalker," James said, a grin playing across his lips. Lily punched him in the arm.

"Ha. Ha." She said. "He's in James's house. And he looks at me like… well… I don't know. Like I'm a prize, or a really nice side of beef."

"Most of the Slytherin boys I've met think of girls like that, so don't feel privileged." James said.

"Actually?" Remus said. "Most boys look at girls like that."

"I look at girls like that," Sirius said. "Can you blame him for looking at Lily like that? I mean…" He motioned as though wiping sweat from his forehead. Lily rolled her eyes.

"And not only that, but Harry said that he's a right prat." Lily said. "He's cute, I'll admit, but my live is pretty much sworn to James at this point, so alas, I shall have to suffer on."

"Hey!" James protested. "I'm not all that bad, and look at what a great kid we have! Had? Will have?" He looked at Remus.

"Uhh… sorry mate, but conjugation escapes me on that one." Remus said. James sighed and plowed on.

"So is it such a tragedy that you choose to spend the rest of your life with me?" James asked.

"Since you're only third on my list, I'm thinking yes," Lily said, grinning.

"Who's first?" Sirius asked. Lily flashed him a smile.

"Do you really have to ask?" She said, tipping her head down slightly so that she looked through her lashes at Sirius, and lowering her voice so that there was no doubt left as to who her first choice as love was.

"Well, who's second?" James demanded.

Lily's eyes flicked briefly to Remus.

"HIM!?" James cried. Madam Pince was barreling down on them. James lowered his voice with an apologetic look in her direction. "You chose the werewolf over me?"

"Hey now," Remus began. "That's not my fault you know…"

"And this is exactly why, James," Lily snapped. "Your childish attitude toward… EVERYTHING!" Madam Pince glared at them again, and one more outburst and they were sure to be ejected from the library. She dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper. "But I realized something last night."

"What?" James asked.

"Well, I know we get back," Lily said.

"How?" Remus said, his eyes widening.

"Well, I was talking to Harry, and he said something like, don't pick Wormtail as our secret keeper, and he was crying, and I was crying," Lily said. "And suddenly, this feeling came over me, like, wow, this is my son. I love this kid, and I know that that was why I protected him from… the way I did."

"You just knew?" Sirius queried softly.

"I could feel it, guys." Lily said. "I know it wasn't You-Know-Who who brought us here. It was someone else, someone who knew what could happen, as far as Harry is concerned."

"How can you base this on just feelings, Lily?" Sirius asked. He looked skeptical.

"Can't you just trust that I know why I feel this?" Lily demanded. "You don't like it just because it means that James and I will fall in love and get married, and blah, blah, blah."

Sirius was pouting. Lily rolled her eyes at him again.

"She's probably right," Remus said. "I mean, obviously, this all has something to do with Harry—possibly the fact that he is the Boy Who Lived. James had the dreams. We appear at a low in Harry's life—Sirius has just died in this time. We knock him unconscious when we appear."

"All signs point to 'Lily is correct.'" Lily said. James nodded his assent. Sirius continued to pout.

"So what do we do?" Remus said.

"Well, I've been thinking about this," Lily began, and the three boys leaned toward her in whispered conversation.

The plan moved forward.


	7. Six : Narrow Escapes

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thanks also to all those who have reviewed, and yes, I am afraid that all women I write come out a bit like Buffy. Except for when I write Buffy. Dammit. Anyway, yes, Lily is a bit like B. in "Prophecy Girl." Probably not completely intentionally, but since I can recite the dialogue from that ep, it's kind of a given… oh, nevermind.

Through Time

Six: Narrow Escapes

Draco watched Lily across the courtyard, sitting on a bench, head tilted back, talking to Jeremiah James, who argued with Snape more than Harry Potter, and, Draco thought, got away with too much. The Hufflepuff trainee had his arm around her shoulders, and was laughing at what James had said. The Ravenclaw trainee—Draco couldn't remember his name, only that the girls thought he was really handsome, and that he was as suave as a mouse surfing in a bathtub—was leaning against Lily's legs with a book open on his lap.

This presented a problem.

As a rule, Draco Malfoy did not have a problem talking to girls. He did not have a problem talking to girls in front of other boys. No, Draco Malfoy had a problem with girls thinking other boys were more handsome than him and subsequently not paying attention to him. This was the threat that the three trainee professors presented.

Draco strode forward toward Lily, and the Hufflepuff, Black, removed his arm and sat up straighter. Draco walked with his back straight, and with an air of confidence that only money could give. He stopped in front of Lily, and flashed her his most heart-melting smile.

Lily looked up at him, unfazed, her porcelain pale cheeks flushed from laughter, her green eyes sparkled—only a trace of cosmetic charms, light, glossy lip color and a darkening of her lashes—and she smiled. Draco was momentarily silent, taking in the sight of her, her long, deep red hair trailing onto the shoulders of a golden-yellow blouse, down to her soft, grey wool skirt, knee high socks (out of fashion, Draco knew, if the rest of the girls at school were to be believed), and black flats.

"Do you have something to say?" Black asked, and Draco noted that he had the air of a boyfriend who is slightly offended by another man's assessment of his girlfriend.

"Yes, I do," Draco said, slightly annoyed.

"Well say it, then," James said.

"Oh, he can tell me when he comes to my class later," Lily said, standing and stepping from between James and Black. The Ravenclaw almost fell over when she moved, Draco noted with a certain amount of glee. Lily dusted the back of her robes off, and held a hand down to the Ravenclaw. "R… Romulus, would you walk with me?" she asked.

"Of course," the Ravenclaw—Romulus, apparently, and a good name that was, old, Draco knew—said, taking her hand but getting to his feet on his own. How many boys could a girl be with at a time, Draco thought, wonderingly. Romulus put Lily's hand on his arm, and they walked away.

Draco walked regally across the courtyard, away from James and Black, who were sending him looks that could have given him the Black Death if looks could kill.

"Thwarted again," Draco muttered, and made his way to class.

~`~

Harry sat in the library, pouring over every book about time travel he could lay his hands on. So far, the only means he had discovered was the time-turner, which was not so much a discovery, as he and Hermione had used one in their third year to prevent Sirius—Harry felt the familiar pain in his chest at the thought of his godfather—and Buckbeak the Hippogriff from being executed.

He sighed and rested his chin on his fist, reaching up with the other hand and removing his glasses before resting them on the table before him and rubbing his eyes. The sky outside the window was darkening—or so he thought. It was mostly obscured by curtains and by the shelves of books that stretched up and had so far yielded no answers as to how his mother had been brought forward through time.

He was rubbing his eyes when he heard the chair across the table from him scrape across the floor as someone pulled it out, and he heard it scraping again as someone sat and scooted forward. He opened his eyes to see a tired-looking Hermione sitting across from him. He frowned. She lived for looking things up in books—she loved it.

"Did you find anything?" He asked. She shook her head, her hair sliding back and forth across the shoulders of her black school robes. Her tie was undone, her shirt unbuttoned a bit, exposing a long line of pale skin disappearing down between her breasts, her jumper long forgotten in their room in the fading warmth of the summer.

"Only time turners," she said. "Every book about time travel, and all they have is bloody time turners."

"Yeah," Harry said. He was tired. So tired of looking, trying to find out how Lily, James, Remus, and Sirius had gotten to the present time.

"You should go back, get some sleep," Hermione said. She looked at him as she took a book from the top of Harry's stack and opened it.

"I can't sleep. I keep dreaming about him." Harry said.

"Voldemort?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "I keep seeing him, towering over my mother, over Lily, as we know her now, and raising his wand. I can hear my… I can hear James screaming her name, and Sirius is there too, lying on the floor, but he's alive, because I can see him breathing." Harry paused to take a breath, Hermione staring at him, her entire being focused on him and the telling of his dream. "I see Lupin, running toward her—my mom. Voldemort doesn't even look at him, and he smiles at Lily, this cold, evil smile—I can't even begin to describe it. Then it fades, and he opens his mouth…"

Harry stopped, swallowing.

"He doesn't… he can't…" Hermione said, her eyes wide, face pale.

"I wake up before… before he kills her." Harry said. Hermione reached across the table for him, but he pulled away. "I don't think he kills her. I think someone stops him. I know it in my heart, Hermione."

"I believe that you do," Hermione said, drawing her hands back and turning to the book, her cheeks burning from his pulling away. She began scanning the pages for a reference to any sort of spell that could bring a person through time.

They sat in silence for a long time, before Harry ever read a word of his book. Minutes that seemed like hours to both parties involved crept by as both Harry and Hermione fought down tears.

Time passed.

Harry jumped suddenly, realizing that they were still in the library, the last ones remaining, and even Madam Pince dozed behind her desk. He could feel something touching his leg, pulling his shoe off of his foot. He looked up at Hermione, who was looking back at him.

"Is that…" Harry began.

"My foot," Hermione said. "Read your book, Harry James," she said. She never once stopped looking at him, or he at her. Hermione's sock covered foot rubbed at his ankle.

Harry smiled at her, and stood up, forcing his foot back into his shoe. Hermione closed the book and slid it into her knapsack, which Harry took from her and hefted over his shoulder. She went to Madam Pince and asked if they could leave the books for the next day, Saturday. Madam Pince smiled at Hermione—Harry hadn't known the old librarian could do that—and nodded assent. Hermione turned to Harry and motioned him forward.

They left the library, and once away from the hawk-eyes of Madam Pince, Harry reached out and took Hermione's hand. They slowly made their way back to Gryffindor Tower through moon- and torch-lit corridors in silence, neither really feeling the need to speak. Or perhaps, if there was a need, neither having the strength.

The Fat Lady fixed their clasped hands with a disapproving glare as Hermione gave the password and the portrait swung wide to allow them access to the common room. A warm, comfortable heat closed over them as they went inside, enfolding them in happiness and a sense of belonging. They walked across the room, and Hermione made to pull away and go for the girls' dormitory. Harry went with her, stopping at the door.

"Goodnight," he said, his voice barely audible and more of a movement of lips meant only for the girl who stood in front of him.

"'Night," Hermione said, though her lips formed the word 'good' as well.

Harry leaned forward slowly, and kissed her, a brief, warm press of lips on lips, all romance and nothing to do with desire at all, just love, and comfort, and friendship underneath. Hermione closed her eyes, cherishing the moment, that kiss, that first, perfect kiss, then had to turn away, needing no words, nothing more, and going to bed with a smile on her lips.

~`~

Remus sat in the library, his face turned down toward his book. Across from him, Lily sighed and stretched.

"So that's it." Remus said, sitting back and looking at Lily. She nodded, yawning.

"All we have to do is wait. Something will happen… and when it does…" She snapped her fingers. "Finite."

"Finite," Remus repeated, and smiled. Suddenly Lily giggled.

"Don't look now, but here comes your girlfriend," Lily whispered. Remus started to turn. "Oooh, don't turn around, maybe she won't realize it's you."

"Why me?" Remus asked.

"Well, at least she's pretty. And mostly nice," Lily said. Remus stopped short of beating his head on the table as Cho Chang stepped up to the table.

"Excuse me, Romulus," she said, "but could you possibly help me with something?"

"What?" Remus asked. Cho didn't seem to notice the resigned tone in his voice.

Cho quickly explained a problem she was having with her Transfiguration homework. Remus shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Cho, but I'm not all that good at Transfiguration. I'm much, much better at Charms. That's why I'm training with Professor Flitwick," Remus said. "Did you ask someone from the Transfiguration department?"

"Well, I kind of came to you because you're our Head of House assistant," Cho said.

"Well…" Remus said, at a loss for words or more excuses to get Cho to go away. She had performed the spell perfectly in class that day, and Remus was sure that she was just asking to get him to give her his time.

"I can help you," Lily said, sliding in to save Remus. "I am training with McGonagall, you know."

"No," Cho said, making a face. "I'll just ask McGonagall tomorrow."

She turned and left the library. Lily managed to wait until she was out of sight before she burst into hysterical giggles.

"The look on her face!" She said. "Priceless!" Remus rolled his eyes. "Honestly. If I didn't know you better, I'd think that you weren't a male, much less one that is sixteen."

"Yeah well," Remus said, but didn't elaborate.

"Well what?" Cho's a pretty girl." Lily said. Then she grinned. "Unless there's someone else who captures the fancy of Remus Lupin."

"There is that," he said.

"Tell me?" Lily asked.

"Certainly not!" Remus said. "I'll just keep this a nice little secret."

Lily shook her head and laughed.

"Come on," She said, standing and shoving her books into her knapsack. "Let's go tell Sirius and James that we've figured it out."


	8. Seven : The Calling

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback.

Through Time

Seven: The Calling

Lord Voldemort called his Death Eaters home on Halloween.

James found out first, when Slytherin (and not Slytherin) parents began arriving and demanding that their children come home, late, late in the night. Dumbledore let them go without a word, just a silent stoicism, but he knew why they left. James sat next to the fire on one of the dark leather sofas of the common room, a book in his lap, watching surreptitiously.

Lily knew next, when the Ravenclaws arrived for Transfiguration on the morning after and the Slytherins did not. She looked at McGonagall, her eyes wide, and McGonagall's lips turned to a thin, almost nonexistent line in her pale face. She dismissed the class immediately and hurried to Dumbledore's office. Lilly ran through the corridors and out into the courtyard, then down to the greenhouses, bursting in on where the Sixth year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were having class.

Sirius looked up at her, and so did Professor Sprout. "Miss Evans?" the Professor asked, looking worried. Lily was panting, her red hair windswept and stuck to her face with a light sheen of sweat.

Lily turned her head sharply to look at Harry. She heard Hermione gasp, and Ron dropped his trowel. Sirius tripped over a stool and had to catch himself against one of the tables.

He hurried toward Lily. "Do James and Remus know?" Sirius asked. Lily looked around warily as he said Remus's names. Lily realized that at this point, it didn't matter.

"James has to, he's in Slytherin. They're all gone." Lily said.

"Not all of them," Harry said. "All of the first and second years are still here. Most of the third and fourth years. It's the rest that are gone."

"Excuse me!" Professor Sprout said. "You are interrupting my class!"

"Professor, Lord Voldemort—" Lily had to pause while the entire class—save Harry and Hermione—winced. "He has called his Death Eaters to him. They took their children…I don't know…"

"To be initiated." Hermione said, her eyes wide. "To make them part of Voldemort's army."

"Draco Malfoy was still at breakfast," Ernie McMillan said. "I would have thought that him, of all the Slytherins…"

Professor Sprout shot him a glare. "McMillan, you keep your mouth closed about other students."

"Sorry Ma'am," Ernie said.

"Now, class, please return to your houses, and REMAIN THERE," Professor Sprout ordered. She turned to Sirius and Lily. "You two please escort your housemates to your houses."

She left the greenhouses, lifting her robes high over her feet and running up the lawns as fast as her short, pudgy legs could carry her.

Lily looked at Sirius. "Meet me back at the stairs in ten minutes." She said. "Gryffindors! Follow me!" A low chatter began in the classroom as the students began putting their tools and books away.

"Leave them, and come on!" Sirius said. "Hurry!"

Sirius and Lily led their housemates up the lawns and into the castle, where they broke apart, Lily calling to Sirius "Ten minutes!" and they took them to their dormitories.

Twenty minutes later, they met back in the main hall.

"Sorry," Lily said. She motioned to the group standing with her. "Dumbledore's Army here, caused me a bit of a problem."

Harry crossed his arms and stood behind her. Hermione was at his left, Ron at his right. Behind him was Katie Bell, the oldest of the army still at the school, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Colin and Dennis Creevy, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan. Sirius gave her a smile.

"I had the same problem." He said. Behind him were Zacharias Smith, Susan Bones, and Ernie McMillan.

"We know what we're doing," Ernie said, a strong set to his chin. "We're not Gryffindors, and none of us are as talented as Harry, but we want to do what we can."

James came walking into the hall, a bottle of a strange blue liquid in his hand. Draco Malfoy and a pretty girl with blue-black hair that Lily nor Sirius recognized by name trailing behind him. 

He held up the bottle. "Snape left this for us. It's the counter-potion to the one that Sirius, Remus and I take," he said. "And… this is Draco. I guess you all know him."

Harry stepped up, narrowing his eyes. "He's just as bad as any Death Eater," Harry said, almost snarling the words. "He's just as evil as his father was."

"Don't you mention my father!" Draco shouted. Lily looked at him, at the pale, pointed face, grey eyes rimmed with dark circles, and bloodshot. He had been crying.

"Harry, please," James said. He uncorked the bottle and took a drink, then held it to Sirius.

"Is it poison?" Sirius asked.

"Drink up, Si," James said. "If Snape poisoned me, you're going down too. Besides, he left the same bottle for Remus too, and they were always…cordial."

Sirius drank, stowing the last portion of potion away in its vial in his pocket. "Why the Slytherins?" he asked, curling up his lip at the word.

"Please, Harry, Sirius," James said. The group standing with them watched as both Sirius's and James's hair began darkening, their faces changing. Susan bones covered her mouth in shock. "His father is dead."

"They executed him last month," Draco said, his voice harsh, filled with tears. Lily saw him swallow several times before he opened his mouth to speak again. "My… my mother." He ducked his head down, and when he looked back up, there were tears streaming down his cheeks. "She killed herself. Sent me a note, yesterday morning, told me… told me that she had no life without my dad."

"Bollocks," Ron said. "She couldn't have loved. He couldn't have loved her. Heartless—"

"Shut your mouth, Weasel." Draco snarled. Harry looked at him, the boy broken, and knew how he felt, being an orphan. "My mother loved my dad more than anything. Except herself. More than me. More than life."

"What about her?" Lily asked, nodding to the girl, trying to head off the argument. She was glad that Draco was taking up the good fight, for what it was worth. Someday, her son would be able to forgive him, maybe. It would take time, but maybe…

"Blaise," the girl said. "Zabini. And I want nothing to do with my parents, my family, Lord Voldemort. I like being alive."

Lily stared at the girl, and could almost feel the fire inside her. Blue eyes in a pale face, Blaise stared back at anyone who would give her the chance. Someone like that was what the side of good needed. Someone strong.

"Good," Lily said, taking charge. "Let's go find Remus, then go up to Dumbledore."

"Wait, wait. Who are you guys?" Neville said, speaking for the first time. Lily spun around to face him, her dark red hair flying.

"I'm Lily Evans. Or maybe you don't know me." She said. "There's a long story. I was brought forward through time to wage war against the man who wants to kill my son."

"Yeah right," said Zacharias Smith. Sirius looked as though he might hit the boy.

"Yeah, farfetched, I know. But someone brought me here, and I'll give my life for my son, if I have to." Lily said. "Again."

"That doesn't make any sense," Ginny said. Hermione spoke up, her voice ringing through the hall.

"She's Lily Potter. Harry's mother."


	9. Eight : The Order and the Army

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback.

Through Time

Eight: The Army and the Order

They all stared at Lily. The redhead still looked at Neville, unblushing, and knowing every eye of all of the kids in the great hall was on her.

"While we're at it, I might as well say, I'm Sirius Black." Sirius put in, sounding almost bored. James snorted.

"Potter, James Potter." James said, lisping out the 's' on the end of his name like an actor he'd seen once in a muggle movie he and Sirius had gone to. He lifted his glasses out of his robe pocket and put them on. "Please to make your acquaintance."

"Look," Lily said, "as much as I'd like to stand around and get to know everybody better, but the wizarding world IS under attack, so…"

The front doors opened then, and Remus Lupin walked through them. Lily turned to him, and stared. He froze.

"Professor Lupin," Harry began.

Lupin stumbled forward. "Ooo, sorry," Harry heard a familiar voice say. A witch with neon pink hair stepped away from Lupin. "You oughtn't to stop like that, Lupin…"

Harry gazed openmouthed as a large portion of the Order of the Phoenix came through the doors. Molly Weasley rushed over to her daughter and son and grabbed them in her arms, squeezing them tightly. Ron blushed, and Ginny simply rolled her eyes. 

"Hi mum," Ginny said.

"Why are you all here?" she asked.

"We could ask you the same," Ron shot back.

"Do not cheek me, Ronald." Mrs. Weasley said. She turned and hugged Harry and Hermione, who still wore startled looks. I'm so glad you're all safe!"

"Of course we're safe," Harry said, his arms dangling limply. "Why wouldn't we be? Voldemort isn't here."

Mrs. Weasley stiffened. "Well." She said.

Lily shook her head and turned around. "Sirius, go down to the Charms classroom and –"

"Sirius?" Lupin asked. He was staring at the boy. "Lily?" He almost choked. "James?"

"You're… Remus. But older." Lily said, staring at him.

"How…" Lupin asked. "No. This was his great plan. Of course."

He turned away from Lily, James, and Sirius and raced up the stairs, his robes flapping wildly as he ran. James, Lily and Sirius raced after him up the stairs, leaving Dumbledore's Army, Draco, Blaise, and the Order of the Phoenix in the hall.

"What's going on?" Tonks asked.

"We're Dumbledore's Army," Ginny told her. "And Draco and Blaise, of course."

"Well, I really think you should go back to Gryffindor Tower and stay there, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said.

"No," Ginny said, looking at her mother. "We're not allowed to be part of the Order, but we ARE going to help, whether you want us to or not."

"Ginny," Mr. Weasley said, stepping forward.

"No!" Ginny said. "You're not paying attention. We were there last year, in the Ministry. We're going to be there this time."

She stared down her parents, unflinching.

"Well," came the growling voice of Alastor Moody, "we don't have the time to debate what these kids do. We're here to see Dumbledore."

The order, as one, save for the Weasleys, began to move up the stairs. Bill and Charlie stopped next to their little sister, who gazed up at them with the same defiance she'd shown their mother. Both men bent down and wrapped her in a tight hug, and Ginny closed her arms around her brothers, before they let go and went up the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shook their heads and followed the rest of the Order to Dumbledore's office.

Fred and George Weasley burst through the doors then.

"Are we late?" Fred asked.

"I told you, yes," George replied. They stopped.

"Well hello," Fred said. Lee Jordan came in behind him, followed by Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet—the recent graduates, and more recent additions to the Order, and members of Dumbledore's Army.

"We need to get the Ravenclaws," Harry said. He did an about-face and charged down the corridor toward the Charms classroom without another word. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny followed, and soon, the rest of the students followed.

George flashed Fred a smile. "Good to see everyone again," he said. The youngest members of the Order of the Phoenix charged up the stairs.

~`~

Dumbledore was waiting for them, when Lupin, Lily, James, and Sirius burst into his office.

"Good morning Lily. Remus, Sirius. James." He said, inclining his head to the three men. "I suppose this is about what I did." He smiled at them.

"What?" Lily asked.

"You did it," Lupin said. "I know that you were trying to do it, but I never dreamed you'd actually be able to…"

"What?" Lily asked again.

"Why, bring you to this time, of course, Miss Evans." McGonagall said, frowning at Dumbledore. "The least you could have done was warn us, Albus."

"Ahh, Minerva, I thought it best that no one knew," Dumbledore said.

"You did this?" Sirius asked, startled.

"Of course." Dumbledore said. "It takes a powerful wizard to bring someone through time without the aid of a time turner. Myself, and Voldemort are possibly the only ones who could have done so. Lily, I realize that, after talking with Harry, you discovered that time is a series of circles. To complete one circle of your life, you had to be brought forward, then sent back without the knowledge that it had happened. You discovered that your love for Harry now would remain with you as you went back, and that would motivate you to give your life for him as an adult, in your own time.

"Therefore, you must realize that whomever brought you forward, would have to know that your presence in this time, and you meeting your son at the age of sixteen—when he has never, ever known you, or the love you have for him—would set into motion a series of events that would culminate in the defeat of Voldemort when he attempted to kill Harry as a baby. A murder that he could not commit, because he was protected by your love, locked within you from the age of sixteen. Voldemort himself would not have taken the chance to bring you forward, even if he thought that taking your life as a sixteen year old would prevent the birth of your son.

"That is why I brought you here—to start that circle of events." Dumbledore finished. "Now all that is left is to send you back."

"No!" Lily shouted. "No," she repeated. "I'm not going back."

"You have to," Remus said. "You cannot risk your life here."

"I won't be." Lily said.

"Lily," Dumbledore began, but the Order of the Phoenix began streaming through the doors, and he said no more to Lily, and Lily did not tell her plan.

~`~

Harry strode through the doors of the Charms classroom, stopping Professor Flitwick in the middle of the lesson. He strode down the aisle, the remainder of his companions remaining at the back of the classroom as he went to Flitwick.

"Sir, sorry to interrupt, but there is an emergency. Voldemort—"Harry said. Flitwick winced. "Voldemort has called his Death Eaters to him. Sprout, Snape, and McGonagall have already dismissed classes and sent their students to their dormitories."

"Very well," Flitwick said, his voice higher pitched than normal. "Prefects, if you would please escort the younger children back to their classes, it would be most appreciated."

He hopped down from the dais on which he stood to teach his class, and ran from the room as quickly as his short legs would carry him. Remus came running over to Harry. "Lily and Black?" he asked.

"She and Sirius are in Dumbledore's office, with Professor Lupin and the Order of the Phoenix," Harry told him. "Sirius has the counterpotion to the Glamour. He and James have already taken it."

"Thanks," Remus said, and hurried out of the room.

"What's going on?" Cho asked, coming up to Harry.

"Cho," Harry began, "I'll explain later. Please go and get Luna and Padma, and I'll explain it to the three of you when you get back."

Cho nodded and hurried from the room. The rest of the DA went from classroom to classroom, telling Professors what was happening.


	10. Nine : No Turning Back

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback.

Through Time

Nine: No Turning Back

Lily walked down the stairs from Dumbledore's office, her brain again working frantically. James stepped forward and took hold of her hand.

"Lil, we're going home," he said. Lily stopped and looked at him.

"James, I am not going to go home and leave our son here alone, to die." Lily snapped. James backed up, but held onto her hand.

"He's not alone," James said. "He's never, ever alone, and don't you EVER think that."

"James, when he faces Voldemort, he will be alone." Lily said.

"No," James said. "I'll be with him."

"Not if Dumbledore sends us back." Lily said.

"James is right," Sirius said. "We'll all be with him. Except for Remus. Sorry Remus."

"I would be if I could be," Remus said. "But since my adult self isn't dead… but who knows. I might be by then."

Lily stared at them.

"I am always with my son," James said. "You are always with your son. Sirius is always with his godson. When he could not be in life, so he is in death."

Lily's eyes were suddenly shining with tears. "When did you get so smart?" she asked James.

"When I met Harry," James said, and gave the girl who would someday be his wife a quick smile.

"I'm not going back," Lily said. "Not yet."

"No," Remus said. "We aren't. I didn't learn that spell for nothing."

"And if push comes to shove, Remy can hold him down, and we can beat the hell out of him," Sirius said, slamming one fist into his open palm, grinning wildly.

James grinned at his best friends. "Oh yeah," he agreed. They continued down the stairs.

~`~

Harry led the group of Hogwarts students down the corridors to the great hall. He strode across the flagstones to the wide doors of the entrance, and, with Ron's help, threw them open.

They started down the lawns, this small band of students, girls still in their uniform skirts (except Hermione and Ginny, who had changed), robes fluttering as they walked with purpose.

"Harry," Hermione said, almost running to keep up. "Where are we going?"

"Malfoy Manor," Harry said, shooting a glance at Draco, who's pale, tight-lipped face turned slightly toward them. "Draco told me that with his parents gone, it had become the base of operations, if you will."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked Draco.

"The Dark Lord demanded that I leave the school along with the other kids. My uncle was supposed to bring me home, but I told Dumbledore that I wouldn't leave," Draco said. "I told him everything, and asked—begged—that he not let my uncle take me. And here I am."

Hermione looked at the boy, at the set of his jaw, and nodded her head. She didn't trust him completely, but something about the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes told her that he meant what he said. That he told the truth. Ginny stepped up beside them, reached out, and squeezed Draco's hand.

"I shouldn't trust you, but I do." She said. Harry looked at Ginny, who gave him the slightest of nods. Ginny knew things that other people didn't—being possessed by Voldemort in her first year had changed her, had given her a sixth sense, a way of sensing the true nature of people. Perhaps it was knowing true evil, being so close to it, that had shown her that no one—not even Draco Malfoy—was as evil as Voldemort.

"How are we going to get there?" Neville asked.

Harry looked into the forest. "The same way we got to the Ministry," Harry said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pocketknife.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What are you going to do?" she asked, a feeling of dread welling up in her stomach.

"The thestrals," Neville said. He watched as Harry drew the knife across his palm, watched the other boy's face go pale and tight with pain as he drew his own blood. Harry flexed his hand, causing blood to well up, spilling in dark red trails across his palm.

"It won't be enough," Neville said. The chubby boy reached out for Harry's knife.

"No, Neville," Hermione said, glaring at Harry and drawing her wand. Neville took the knife from Harry anyway. "Neville," Hermione said, reaching out.

Neville dug the knife into his palm with a sharp gasp of pain. His blood joined Harry's in dripping onto the ground, so, so red.

"Still not enough," Neville said. He pressed his lips together and flexed his hand the way Harry had. Draco reached out and took the knife from Neville. Hermione looked at him in shock. This Slytherin boy was about to shed blood for the quest of a Gryffindor? Didn't that go against everything he stood for?

Draco slashed his palm open, unflinching, not making a sound. Hermione wondered if maybe the pale blond boy hadn't been conditioned to endure pain soundlessly. That seemed like the kind of thing Lucius Malfoy would impress upon his son.

Hermione looked around at the rest of the group. No one moved, but Padma Patil had her hands over her mouth and had turned away. Hermione waited for someone else to move forward, to ad their blood to Harry's, Neville's, and Draco's. She heard a sharp gasp of pain behind her, and turned to see Ginny screwing up her eyes at the sight of her own blood.

"Bloody hell," Hermione said, as Harry, Neville, and Draco turned toward the trees.

A thestral made its way slowly out of the trees, toward the three boys. Harry walked toward it, his bloody hand outstretched. Hermione paled, hoping that it would not try to bite his hand off. Ginny looked, hoping to see what the boys saw. Hermione remembered that the year before, Draco had not been able to see the animals when Hagrid had introduced them in Care of Magical Creatures.

"Who," she said softly. "Who did you see die, Malfoy."

Draco turned pale, cold gray eyes to her, and Hermione was reminded of the sky before a storm. Ginny watched the Slytherin boy as well, her eyes on his face.

"My mother," Draco said. His eyes narrowed. "I went with her to my father's execution. Then when we got home…" his voice trailed off. "You know the rest of the story."

Truthfully, the girls did not, but they did not want to ask. It was not their place.

Three more thestrals came out of the trees.

"There are four," Luna said, speaking up for the first time. "We need so many more than that."

Ginny turned and counted quickly. "Fifteen." She said. "There's no way we'll get that many fast enough.

"Then we'll just wait for eight." Harry said, tight lipped.

"I'm not sure we can even wait for that many." Draco said. He was facing the castle now, looking up. "They'll be here soon."

"Who?" Ron asked, glaring at the blond boy.

"The Professors. Your mum and da." Draco said. "Lily."

"Harry," Luna said, rushing forward. She rubbed a hand down the side of the thestral. "More are coming."

"Ginny, you, Luna, and Neville stay here. You can attract the thestrals and Luna can help people mount." Harry said. "If we can mount two on an animal, eight of us can go now."

"They can carry two, probably," Draco said, looking at the horse-like creatures. "Horses that size could. These should be able to."

"Right then," Harry said. "Hermione, you ride with me. Blaise will ride with Draco. Two. Um. Ron, you come here, you can ride one, and Padma with you. Ernie, you and Susan can take this fourth."

Harry reached out and took Ron's arm, leading him to the closest thestral. He helped his best friend mount the skeletal beast, and twined Ron's fingers in the horse's mane. "Padma," he called softly. The thestral whinnied softly, and nosed at Padma as she walked by. The girl jumped, but Harry caught her arm and helped her mount the beast behind Ron. She closed her arms tight around Ron's waist.

"Ernie," Harry said, motioning at the blond Hufflepuff boy. Ernie walked over cautiously, unable to see the skeletal horse that awaited him. Harry guided him to the animal's back as two more thestrals came out of the trees. "Yes," he hissed softly. He waved to Susan and secured Ernie's hands in the thestral's mane. Susan walked over and mounted behind Ernie.

"You can see them?" Harry asked. The Hufflepuff girl nodded and locked her arms around Ernie. 

Harry turned to see Draco climb onto a thestral, pulling the dark haired Blaise up behind him. On the other side of them, Luna was settiling Dean Thomas and Katie Bell onto a thestral. Neville, while holding his bleeding hand out, was helping Zacharias Smith and Cho Chang onto the back of another. Ginny was looking about worriedly, flexing her hand to keep the blood flowing.

Harry marched to his own mount and climbed on, reaching out to Hermione. His girlfriend walked over, holding out a hand, and Harry helped her climb onto the magical beast.

"Land in the village below the manor," Draco said. "There's no way to land inside the grounds. My father made sure of that."

Harry nodded, and looked at the other riders to make sure they heard. They were pale, but they mostly nodded. As Harry's thestral launched itself into the sky, the final two thestrals emerged from the woods, as Professor McGonagall came striding out of the castle and toward them. Harry looked back to see Luna hurrying Seamus onto one of the beasts as Neville hauled Ginny up behind him. 

Harry took a deep breath and was thankful for Hermione's arms around his middle, and her cheek pressed against his back. He was scared—more than he had ever been any other time he had faced Voldemort. This time, he wasn't going to save anyone. He was going to save the world.

The thought jarred him, but there was no turning back, not in the air with the sounds of beating wings. Not with Hermione at his back, and Ron at his side.

Not now and not ever again, would he be able to turn away.

This was his destiny.


	11. Ten : The Manor

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback.

Through Time

Ten: The Manor

"Where are they?" Lily demanded. Dumbledore simply looked at the red-haired girl who stood in his office.

"I am afraid that it does not matter. I must send you home," Dumbledore said.

"No!" Lily shouted. "Tell me where Harry has gone!"

"Lily—" Dumbledore said.

"No!" She screamed, her voice harsh. "Tell me where they went!" James reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

Dumbledore sighed. "They have gone to Malfoy Manor," he told her. "But I do not think you should go."

"Voldemort can't kill me," Lily said. She turned and walked out of Dumbledore's office, James, Sirius, and Remus following.

Dumbledore sighed. It was going to be a very long night.

~`~

"Sorry I flirted with your mum," Draco said, out of the blue. He and Harry were standing almost to their knees in snow, in the woods that bordered the tiny village that lay beneath the sprawling grounds of the Malfoy Manor.

"What?" Harry asked, startled. He turned to look at the other boy. Dumbledore's Army, Draco, and Blaise were waiting for night to fall before storming the mansion.

"I want your mum. Can't help it. Beautiful girl." Draco said.

"She's my mum." Harry said.

"I know, which is sort of disgusting." Draco mused. Harry shook his head and tried to block the blond boy out. Hermione and Ginny were sitting on the back of one of the thestrals, huddling together, shivering.

"We're going," Harry said. He drew out his wand as Hermione and Ginny slid from their invisible mount. "Scared?" Harry asked Hermione as she stepped up beside him and took his hand.

"I'd be a liar if I told you I wasn't," Hermione admitted. Harry smiled at her, and turned to Ron, who stepped up beside him.

"If Malfoy touches my sister again, I'm going to avada kedavra him." Ron threatened. Harry turned to see Draco talking to Ginny, reaching out and touching a strand of red hair.

"Can you wait until AFTER we kill Voldemort?" Harry asked. "He's sort of helpful."

"Right," Ron said, still glaring at Draco.

"Come on," Harry said, moving forward. They, as a group, Dumbledore's Army, moved forward, out of the trees and into the shining whiteness of the snow on the grounds around Malfoy Manor. Hermione gripped Harry's hand, as she, Harry, and Ron moved at the forefront of the group.

There was silence. Only the crunching of footsteps in snow and the wind through winter-bare trees. Draco moved past Harry, his black cloak in sharp relief against the snow, until he disappeared into the shadow of the stone wall that rose into the night, blending in until all that was visible was a flash of pale skin, and his silvery hair.

He tapped his wand against the icy stones of the wall, and they seemed to disintegrate, similar to the entrance to Diagon Alley. It opened into the grounds, perfect, pristine snow covering miles and miles of ground, leading up to the massive house. Lights burned in windows on the top floor.

"Follow me," Draco said. "The easiest way in is through that window—" he pointed to a window high up on the side of the mansion, a huge, dark window that was set alone in the wall. "You have to climb the trellis to get there."

"All of us?" Harry asked, skeptically.

"No," Draco said. "Some of us can go up, and I can go down and let the rest in."

"That won't work. It's all or nothing." Hermione said. Draco turned at looked at the brunette girl, then nodded sharply.

"Then all of us go." Draco said.

"Where does that window open into?" Harry asked. "How can you be sure that no one will be in there when you go in?"

"It's my suite," Draco said. "There won't be anyone in there."

"Oh," Harry said.

Draco reached the trellis first, and started up, his hands closing in the icy cold of the vines that wrapped around the frozen wood of the lattice.

"Will that hold our weight?" Harry asked.

"It's held mine as long as I've climbed up and down it." Draco said.

"I just want to point out that not all of us are as scrawny as you, Malfoy," Ron said.

"Crabbe and Goyle can do it," Draco said, his lip curling as he looked back down.

"Well, here goes," Harry said, grabbing hold of the trellis and starting to climb. The cold numbed his hands, and the wood dug into the cut on his palm. They only had to climb three stories. It couldn't be that bad, could it be?

The latticework creaked as they climbed skyward. Draco reached the window first, and balanced himself to pull the wand from his robes. Harry noticed that Draco was left-handed as the blond boy muttered the words of the spell that opened the window. The other boy pulled himself over the windowsill and dropped silently into the room.

"Lumos," Harry heard him say as Harry himself climbed through the window. His foot caught on the sill and he fell with a thump to the floor. Draco spun around, gray eyes wide. "Shh!" he hissed, half of his face shadowed sharply by the light of his wand.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, vaguely aware that he was apologizing to Draco Malfoy.

Hermione and Ron climbed through the window, followed by Ginny, Neville, and Luna. Ginny lit her wand-tip and looked at her hand, which was beginning to bleed again. Luna looked dazed and had twigs in her hair. No one else came through the window.

"What the…" Draco said. "We seem to be missing a few people."

Harry walked over and looked out the window.

"They aren't there," Harry said. "How can they not be there?"

"They know we're here," Draco said. He grabbed Harry's arm and hauled him toward the door. "Come on," he said. "No sense in staying here. Hurry!"

Draco ran into the hallway, pulling Harry after him. Harry drew his wand from his robes as they ran, and Draco let go of Harry's arm to run full out. He lead them down the halls as though he knew exactly where he was going—he probably did, Harry realized. Ginny and Hermione were right behind him, followed by Ron. Neville and Luna brought up the rear.

  
"Malfoy, where are we going?" Harry asked.

"The library," Draco said. His robes flew behind him like some odd cape as he ran, his perfect hair beginning to fall in his eyes. He skidded to a stop before the doors. "Here," he said, breathless.

"Be ready," Harry said, then threw the doors open.


	12. Eleven : The Ensoluno Charm

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback.

Through Time

Eleven: The Ensoluno Charm

Lily ran into the Gryffindor dormitories, and up the stairs into the boy's rooms, the other three travelers chasing after her.

"Brooms," she said. "We need brooms."

She was frantic, throwing Harry's trunk open, and rummaging about inside. She couldn't find it, and let out a yell of frustration.

"Lily," James said, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. Lily looked up at him, eyes wide, composure gone. He crouched down in front of her, cupping her face in his hands. "Lily, sweet, we don't know where Malfoy Manor is. We couldn't ever get there fast enough on brooms, anyway."

"I have an idea," Remus said. James turned and looked at him.

"What?" Sirius asked. He had his arms crossed, and looked worried.

"Just trust me," Remus said. He turned and started for the dormitory door. James stood and pulled Lily to her feet. As a group, they left the dormitory and followed Remus out of the school and down to the gates.

"What are we going to do?" James asked.

"I know we haven't learned, but we're going to Apparate." Remus said.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Remus." Sirius said, usually the most reckless of all the Marauders. "I don't want to get splinched."

"You won't," Remus said. "Imagine yourself scattering into a million tiny pieces, flying through darkness and space and time, before falling back together again in perfect order, in Malfoy Manor."

"If we get splinched, I'm coming after you when they fix me." Sirius snapped.

James watched as Lily closed her eyes, still huddled in James's arms. James closed his own, and imagined every tiny particle of his body falling apart and moving, racing toward Malfoy Manor, concentrating solely on Voldemort, getting to Voldemort.

It happened. It felt a strange pull on himself, and felt it, a painless flying apart, and the tingling sensation as though his leg were asleep, but over his whole body. Everything was dark, heat, no cold, nothing. Then it stopped and he opened his eyes to find himself standing a stone corridor outside a set of massive ebony wood doors. Lily was wrapped in his arms. Beside him, Remus was panting, his golden-brown eyes wide, reaching one trembling hand up to brush his prematurely graying hair out of his face.

Sirius was there as well, still with his face scrunched up, his eyes closed.

"Did it work?" he asked. He was apparently afraid to open his eyes.

"It worked," Remus said. Sirius opened his eyes and looked around.

Lily pulled away from James and stepped up to the doors. Locked, of course. She drew her wand and aimed it at the doorknob.

"Alohomora," She said. James heard the locks click softly, and Lily put her hand on the doors.

"This is it, guys," She said. "You-Know-Who must be in there."

"Yep," James agreed. If he had gotten there by thinking of Voldemort, it made sense for the Dark Lord to be inside the room.

"If you don't want to go in there, you don't have to," Lily said, as though she expected all three of the boys—well, maybe not James, it was his son, after all—to Disapparate back to the castle.

"Lily," Remus said, giving her his most serious look. "We've come this far, and we're not going to turn back now. You had a plan, remember?"

"Right. I didn't learn these new charms for nothing," Sirius said. "And I suck at Charms."

Lily smiled, heartened. "Well then," She said, grasping the knob and turning it. "Shall we?" she asked.

"We shall," James said. He reached out and together, he and Lily swung the doors open, striding into the room.

It was sparsely lit with candles, enchanted blood-red flames that burned far higher than any other flame and of the Travelers had ever observed. The same went for the fireplace, before which stood a tall, slender figure, cloaked completely in black. At his feet were a slender, pale woman with black hair, and an older, tired, ravaged looking Peter Pettegrew.

The cloaked man turned, revealing a pale, harsh face, with glowing eyes. Lily bit back a gasp, holding her wand tightly in her hand.

"Bella," the figure—Lord Voldemort—hissed, "kill them."

The dark woman at his feet stood, shimmering black dress robes unfolding and falling gracefully to her feet.

"Bellatrix," Sirius gasped, his voice strangled somewhat. His cousin, though her beauty was gone from her long years in Azkaban, smiled at him, recognizing him immediately.

"So you are the ones that that idiot brought forward to defeat my master," Bellatrix said, walking forward. Lily watched the other woman, who swaggered as she walked purposefully across the room, a slender length of wood held lightly in her hand. "Stupid cousin, very stupid."

She raised her wand, at the same time as Sirius. Lily, Remus, and James were also ready, and Lily took a step towards Voldemort.

"Stupify!" Bellatrix screamed, turning to Lily. The redheaded girl ducked quickly, hitting the floor so hard that she lost her breath and lay there gasping. James started forward, ducking a jet of red light from Bellatrix's wand.

"Rictusempra," Sirius said, aiming at his cousin. Bellatrix shrugged off the tickling charm as though it was nothing.

"Crucio," Bellatrix said, turning on her cousin. Sirius wasn't quick enough, and fell to the floor with a scream, Bellatrix's laughter ringing in his ears. "My dear sister—rest her soul—would have loved to see this. She was positively delighted when she learned of your death. I'm sure she's watching and thinking what a delight it is for me to have the pleasure of torturing you this way."

Sirius began to struggle to his feet, trying to throw off the curse, the pain racing through every nerve in his body.

"Crucio." Bellatrix said again, then laughed delightedly as Sirius screamed again, collapsing back to the floor and twitching in pain.

More Death Eaters—only a handful, five at a quick count from Remus as he moved through the flickering shadows around the room—came into the room through the doors at the back. He stayed back, the only one unable to perform the charm that he and Lily had discovered to protect themselves.

"Ah, ah, ah," Said Peter as he stopped Remus's progress.

"Traitor," Remus snarled at his former friend. "Backstabber. Fiend—"

"I know, I know. Be a little more original, Moony," Peter said, and laughed wildly, a sound that chilled Remus to his very bones.

"Murderer," Remus snapped, feeling the wolf rolling within him, though it wasn't the full moon, and it would not come out. The smile dropped from Peter's face.

"That's going too far," he said, and raised his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Remus said, disarming Peter with lightning-quick efficiency. He advanced on his former friend. "Looks like even after all these years, you're no better at dueling. And you know you can't beat me in a muggle fight."

"Oh, I don't know," Peter said, raising his silver hand. "I think things are different, now."

He began to reach for Remus with that silver hand, but Remus acted on instinct and moved, unwilling to have the hand touch him. He raised his arm and aimed his wand at Peter.

"You always wanted to be like us. I see that now," Remus said. "I tried to be nice to you. I tried to help you, and so did James. And look how you repaid him. Betrayer. You gave him to his death, and you're no better than and murdering fiend."

Peter let out a shriek of rage and lunged forward.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Remus shouted. Peter's arms snapped to his sides, and his legs snapped together, and he fell hard to the stone floor on his face. Remus gave a snort of laughter and turned back to the battle that was being waged.

"Ensoluno," Lily whispered, touching the tip of her wand to her chest, just above her heart. She suddenly felt different—older, more powerful, though at the same time, she was still herself. She had extra memories now, Harry's birth, holding him in her arms the first time… and her last moments, James telling her to run, to take Harry and get out, her own voice begging Voldemort not to kill Harry, to take her instead. 

She looked up at James, and saw a difference in his eyes, a darker, more tired look to them. Older. He had performed the same spell.

Lily knew what it did. It brought a dead person's soul back into their body—but could only be performed by the dead person. Lily and Remus had discovered mentions of it in old books, and had looked the charm up. Then, she, James, and Sirius had painstakingly learned to perform the charm perfectly, making them temporarily invincible.

"Wait for me," she told James, her voice different, like two voices at once, and, on the spur of the moment, pressed her lips to his. She kissed him thoroughly, passionately, Adult-Lily sharing a kiss with her husband after death. "I love you," said a voice that did not belong to sixteen year old Lily Evans, but to Lily Potter, wife and mother.

She walked across the floor to her long dreamt-of confrontation with Voldemort.


	13. Twelve : Unforgivables

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback. Thanks also to my brother, who let me smear his lips with my lipgloss—a plot to talk him into tasting the icky ones by giving him the yummy ones first. BonneBell lip rush. In sugar, and lemonade. He also spent the large portion of the story cackling madly. See, I'm funny, if I can amuse a thirteen year old boy.

Through Time

Twelve: Unforgivables

Voldemort looked at Lily.

Behind her, Lily knew James was moving to the unconscious Sirius that lay on the ground behind her. 

"Crucio," Voldemort hissed, his eyes glowing in the semi-dark of the room. The doors behind them crashed open, and as Lily dropped to her knees, fighting the pain that burned through her body, six more Death Eaters came in, hovering a group of Hogwarts students through the doors. 

They were lined up against the wall, more than a few bleeding, most unconscious. James looked at them, recognizing the dark haired Slytherin girl who had stayed, and several Gryffindors that were in Dumbledore's Army. He assumed that the Ravenclaws were members as well—Cho Chang, the girl who had flirted with Remus, and an Indian girl who had a twin in Gryffindor.

A thought struck James. Where were Harry, Hermione, and Ron? Where was Frank Longbottom's son? And Draco, who seemed to have changed for the better?

James jerked his gaze from the students back to Lily, who was on her knees before Voldemort.

"You will bow to me," he said. "You will sit at my right hand, pretty thing."

"You don't want me," Lily snapped, with her odd double layered voice. "I'm a Mudblood, remember?" she spat.

"Then I shall kill you again, as I did before." Voldemort said.

"You killed me and you killed yourself. Who's to say the same thing won't happen again?" Lily said. Voldemort hissed, spittle flying and landing on Lily's face. The redheaded girl did not flinch, though she was disgusted.

"Crucio," Voldemort snarled a second time. James felt as though Lily's scream of pain would rip him apart. The Ensoluno Charm made the wizard invincible—not invulnerable. Crucio would still hurt. James watched as Lily threw the curse off a second time.

"Come on," she taunted. "Can't kill me again? Afraid that it'll backfire again? If you hadn't killed me the first time, it wouldn't have backfired when you killed Harry."

Voldemort snarled. "Are you afraid of me now?" Lily demanded as the door burst open. "Better kill me before he gets here."

Voldemort raised his wand again, grinning at Lily. His teeth were sharp, pointed. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Neville and Luna burst into the room, wands at the ready. The other door—the one the death eaters had come through, slammed open, and the Weasley family burst in, followed by the adult Remus Lupin.

"Lily!" James screamed. The younger Remus began racing across the floor toward Lily and Voldemort, as Bellatrix raised her wand again over Sirius.

"Stupefy," Lupin whispered, stunning the woman who stood over the younger version of his best friend. The black haired woman fell to the floor, and began stirring almost immediately.

The smile had faded from Voldemort's face.

Harry watched in horror as his dream unfolded, Voldemort opening his mouth. He didn't know anything else, and prayed that he would wake up, even though the throbbing in his hand reminded him that he was already awake.

"Avada kedavra," Voldemort said. The jet of green light burst from the tip of his wand, and several of the girls, including Hermione and Ginny screamed. 

The stream struck Lily in the center of the chest, but she remained on her knees, staring up at Voldemort. The light burst around her, surrounding her body and changing to a halo of golden light that surrounded her as she got to her feet.

"I'm already dead," said the voice of Lily Potter. "You can't kill me twice."

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort screamed. "Avada Kedavra!"

Both green jets burst around Lily and added to the light that surrounded her. The more times Voldemort said the unforgivable killing curse, the brighter Lily became, until she glowed as though a star had been captured inside the room and was shining for all it was worth. Hermione turned and buried her face in Harry's chest, as Harry himself closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, Lily was standing before Voldemort, her red hair shining in the candlelight. She turned and looked at Harry, and Voldemort made a motion with his hand.

The Death Eaters attacked. The Weasleys—except Ron and Ginny, stood at the back of the room. Bellatrix was climbing to her feet behind Lupin, as well as Sirius, who, though dizzy and still in pain, had come round. The first three Death Eaters that came toward them were hit in the face with some hex that Harry didn't recognize, but in the next moment, Ginny was laughing, and he saw bat wings fluttering madly all over the faces of the three. Harry dodged around them and ran at Voldemort.

Hermione and Luna ran for the captive members of the DA, removing the magical bonds. Most of them remained unconscious, and Luna had to struggle to keep Padma Patil from cracking her head on the stones as she slid to the side. Ginny continued to perform her bat bogey hex, and Ron trailed after her, stunning her bat wing-faced would-be assailants. The other Weasleys went into action and began making their ways toward Ron and Ginny. Molly Weasley in particular was surprised to see her youngest two children fighting the Death Eaters so viciously—ducking stunning spells and sending hexes in every direction.

"Crucio," howled a Death Eater in a cloak and mask nearby. Molly screamed in pain.

"Stupefy!" Screamed Charlie and Bill at the same time. The twins moved toward the offending Death Eater in unison.

"Crucio," said a female voice, and the four Weasley men turned to see Ginny storming toward the Death Eater who had attacked their mother with the very same curse. The Death Eater howled in a mixture of rage and pain, and Ginny walked over to him. She kicked him in the face once, twice, and kept kicking him until blood began to soak through the mask and stain the toe of her red and white trainers. She kicked him until Bill picked her up and pulled her away, cradling her in his arms.

Ginny began to cry, her entire body shaking. She had performed the Cruciatus Curse—an unforgivable. She had done it because her mother had been attacked. Her older brother petted her hair, and knelt next to Molly, who lay upon the floor. Ginny collapsed onto her mother, who hugged her baby girl—no, her daughter, a young woman who had become so strong right under Molly's nose, and Molly hadn't even noticed. The seven Weasley men stood guard around their women, throwing Stunners and punches whenever any Death Eaters drew too close.

Neville Longbottom faced down Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had helped to deprive him of his parents and a real childhood—one where he did not have to visit the long-term ward at St. Mungo's on Christmas, or the summer holidays.

"Stupid little boy," Bellatrix said. "Fat and stupid, just like your parents. Probably can't even do magic that well."

Neville's face was bright with anger. "Well enough," he said. "Stupefy!" he said, but Bellatrix laughed in his face.

"Obviously not." She said, and raised her wand, still laughing.

"Crucio!" Neville said, throwing every ounce of anger he had felt toward this woman his entire life into the spell. He wanted her to suffer like his parents had suffered, to feel that pain. He wanted to be freed of it.

Bellatrix's laughter turned to screams. Neville repeated the spell over and over, not turning away from the dark haired woman who was writhing on the ground. He did not notice as tears began to streak down his face, as he said the word over and over again. He did not notice as the Death Eater lapsed into unconsciousness. He did not notice as she stopped moving, stopped breathing. He did not notice as she died, simply repeated the word again and again, tears streaking his cheeks.

Draco Malfoy moved along the wall of the study, unnoticed in the shadows, until he reached a cupboard. From it, he drew two long, silver bladed swords.

Harry Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, and the Boy Who Lived, faced Voldemort, formerly Tom Riddle, and self styled Dark Lord in the center of the room. On either side of him were his parents, under the magic of the Ensoluno Charm. Lily's skin still glowed softly from the frantic killing curse with which she had been hit.

Voldemort was angry. Livid, even, and was ready to attempt to kill this boy. 

"Well, boy," Voldemort hissed, raising his wand. "Shall we make this the last time?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "Whatever," he muttered. He raised his wand. Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and he turned slightly.

"Harry!" Lily screamed, and a flash of green light lit the room.


	14. Thirteen : Endgame

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback. Thanks also to my mom, who has asked me so many times whether I've written more, and maintains that it will always be Ron/Hermione. Even though… eww.

Through Time

Thirteen: Endgame

The Killing Curse went wild, striking the wall and setting books aflame. Splinters of wood rained down onto the floor as Draco Malfoy struggled back to his feet and away from Voldemort. It had been him who had distracted Harry, moving forward with the swords, one of which had skittered across the floor, and the other stuck through Voldemort's robes somewhat comically. The scent of burning leather began to fill the room as the destroyed books caught fire.

"Harry," Draco said, sliding the sword to his former rival. They already knew that it would do no good to use Avada Kedavra against the exceptionally evil being. Voldemort was struggling to his feet, removing the sword from his torn robes. Harry grabbed the sword and held it up in front of himself.

Only once before had he held a sword, and that time it had been a particularly magical sword, forged by Godric Gryffindor himself. Harry didn't know what to do.

Voldemort raised his wand again, and Harry lunged forward, sending another Killing Curse flying toward Harry and his parents. James tackled Lily to the floor, knocking the breath from the both of them. Voldemort's wand fell away from his hands, and long, pale, clawlike fingers scrabbled across the stone floor. Draco reached out and kicked it away.

"Get out of here!" Harry yelled. The room was beginning to be consumed by flames. The Weasleys were already leaving the room, Arthur and Charlie on either side of Molly, and Bill cradling his baby sister in his arms, as Fred and George and Ron pounced on a Death Eater who was stirring. Lupin lifted the teenaged Sirius and threw him over his shoulder, heading from the room.

Luna shook Padma Patil, but the dark skinned girl's head only flopped. Hermione was struggling to cut the ropes binding Ernie McMillan. The adult Lupin turned and came back, still carrying Sirius, and lifted the unconscious Ravenclaw girl over his other shoulder. Werewolves were good for something. Hermione managed to get Ernie loose, and the Hufflepuff boy untied his own feet and set to helping Hermione free the rest of the DA. 

Young Remus grabbed Neville, who was still kneeling on the floor.

"Crucio," Neville was saying. "Crucio. Crucio."

"Neville." Remus said, pulling the boy to his feet. Neville kept repeating the curse over and over, his wand almost falling from his fingertips. Remus took it and shoved it into his robe pocket, before pulling the boy from the room.

That left Harry, Lily, Draco, and James alone with Voldemort. James was still pressing Lily into the floor, protecting her body with his own. Harry was half sprawled on the floor, half lying across the Dark Lord, who scratched at him with clawed hands. Harry felt blood beginning to trickle down the side of his face from the deep scratches.

A crack echoed through the room, louder than the flames, and there was a flash of light. Voldemort howled with rage, and Harry looked at his parents. They were staring at Draco. Harry turned.

The blond Slytherin held the two broken ends of Lord Voldemort's wand in either hand. Harry could see the ends of the phoenix feather that made up the core sticking out.

Voldemort scrabbled across the stone floor going for the Death Eater's son; Draco was trapped between the fire and the Dark Lord. Draco's eyes widened, and he looked around frantically, looking for somewhere to go. He raised his wand.

"Impedimenta!" He cried, his voice harsh with panic. Voldemort laughed as the hex hit him, but he reached out, for Draco, for Draco's wand.

Harry raised the sword and slammed it down.

The Dark Lord screamed, clawlike, pale hands reaching down to grab his calf where the Boy Who Lived had impaled him.

"Get out of here!" Harry yelled, and the blond boy nodded frantically and scrambled to his feet, rushing out of the room, stumbling slightly as he ran past his aunt, who was lying on the floor, unmarked, her mouth hanging open, scratches down her once beautiful face, where she had clawed herself in the pain from Neville's Cruciatus. He barely cast her a glance. He hadn't ever liked his aunt that much, anyway. He left the room.

Voldemort pulled the blood covered sword from his robes. James was struggling to his feet, and pulling Lily up with him.

The Dark Lord swung at the teenager who lay on the floor, the boy who had thwarted him so many years, had almost killed him as a mere child. Harry rolled, instinctively, away from the sword's stroke. The other blade lay upon the floor, and Harry's fingers closed on the hilt. He still had his wand, though it did him no good. He knew no curse, no charm that he could use against the man who stood before him.

He raised the sword instead. The clang of steel on steel echoed through the room, blending with the cacophony of the burning library. Harry gritted his teeth and struggled to his feet, trying only to prevent the strange wraith of a man from removing his head.

Harry attempted to go on the offensive, but a searing pain raced down his shoulder, and through his hand, and he almost dropped the blade. It was all he could do to defend himself with the cut on his palm, and the blood running down his shoulder to drip from his elbow.

He would be lucky to survive again.

"Do you really think," Voldemort said, "that you can beat me? I cannot be killed, by either magic, or by steel."

Harry took advantage of the Dark Lord's banter, and struck, lunging forward with a grunt. The knife slid through him unobstructed, and Voldemort screamed with rage and pain. Harry threw all of his strength into the blade, pulling it up with both arms. Blood bubbled from a pale, lipless mouth to spill down the chin and onto the black robes beneath.

A sharp bolt of electricity seemed to race down the blade and into Harry's arms. He let go abruptly, stepping back. He stumbled and sat down hard on his behind, his teeth clacking together in the impact.

"I don't think that sword is steel," Harry whispered. Voldemort's hands wrapped around the sword where it met his chest and struggled to pull it from his flesh. His pale, colorless hands came away, covered in dark blood.

The Dark Lord's mouth opened and closed fruitlessly, no sound escaping, though more blood rushed out. He was dying. The fire crept closer, licking at the hem of is robes.

A gurgling scream issued from his mouth as the black robes caught fire, and the flames raced up his body.

Nothing left, Harry thought vaguely, pushing himself to his feet. He stumbled from the room, dizzy, feeling as though he would vomit. He had killed a man. An evil man, but a human being—though barely—none the less.

Harry wondered, as he ran, if he was no better than Voldemort.

The fire was climbing, reaching the wooden timbers of the roof, dancing along the tapestries and rugs, and many books that the Malfoy family had amassed.

Harry ran, breathless and almost blind, his brain stripped of all thought, and filled with nothing but smoke and a cool numbness that had washed over him the moment he had left the library.

He was lost. He knew that, even through the haze that filled his mind.

He would never get out.

He stumbled, and fell, hitting his head on the stones of the floor. When he raised his head, he felt a tickling sensation, and reached up. His head was bleeding.

Harry couldn't breathe, couldn't find the strength to lift himself up from the floor. He came to the sudden realization that, though he had defeated Voldemort, though he had rid the world of the menace of the Dark Lord, he had not won. He would die, and though Voldemort would burn in hell for eternity, he would have the satisfaction that, though he had died, he had also killed the boy who had killed him, in a very round about way.

Harry coughed, struggling to take a breath of something besides the acrid smoke or the stinging ash.

He coughed one last time as darkness closed in around him, and he knew no more.


	15. Fourteen : Saved

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback. Thanks also to my mom, who has asked me so many times whether I've written more, and maintains that it will always be Ron/Hermione. Even though… eww.

Through Time

Fourteen: Saved

Harry Potter woke, but he did not open his eyes.

"If it weren't for that Malfoy boy, he would be dead," he could hear Madam Pomfrey saying. "As for the two of the, there will be little scarring, but there was nothing we could do about..."

"No," said another voice. "He'll bear that scar for the rest of his life. Sort of funny matched pair."

Madam Pomfrey made a noise that might have been a laugh. "They've sent both Longbottom and the Weasley girl to St. Mungo's." she told the unknown person. "The girl should be back in class shortly after the holidays. The boy… he's in shock."

"Neither are being held accountable for the death of Bellatrix Lestrange and Blair Zabini." The strange person said.

"Longbottom's parents are in St. Mungo's because of excessive use of the Cruciatus Curse. It broke their minds," Pomfrey said. She was lifting Harry's wrist and checking his pulse. "The doctors do have hope for helping the boy. They've at least gotten him to stop speaking the curse over and over again."

"And as for the ones Dumbledore brought through time?" the voice asked.

"He is waiting until Potter wakes to send them back." Madam Pomfrey said.

He heard the sharp clicking of the healer's heels as she walked away, and the soft thud of boots and the sound of fading voices. Harry opened his eyes and looked around.

Next to him was a curtained bed. There were two across. He slid from his own bed, eager to see who shared the infirmary with him. The bed beside him held the pretty, dark haired Blaise Zabini, whose brother had been killed by Ginny Weasley. Her face was paler than he remembered when he first met her, and there was a sort of shimmering blue light dancing around her face. Harry assumed it to be the Wizarding equivalent of an oxygen tube.

In the bed across the aisle from Harry was Hannah Abbott, who seemed to have the same problem as Blaise. Harry wondered what had happened to the two girls.

"Bad stunning hex," said a voice, and the curtains that surrounded the third occupied bed pulled back. "Pomfrey can't quite figure out why they're not waking up. A couple more days, and they're sending them to St. Mungo's."

Harry turned to see Draco standing next to the third bed, his blonde hair much shortened, burned away, Harry realized, and wearing a heavy gray woolen robe over his pajamas. Harry realized that it had been Draco the voice had spoken of bearing a scar.

The white scar traced its way down the side of Draco's otherwise smooth cheek. The Slytherin boy must have noticed Harry looking.

"I went back in after you," Draco said. "When I was pulling you out—and you're quite heavy, I must say, Potter—one of the beams in the ceiling fell, and… well." He gestured at the white line on his cheek.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, though he didn't really feel that sorry at all, and even though Malfoy had been injured saving Harry's life, when he normally would have.

"Don't be. It was stupid of me." Draco said, smirking. "If I'd any sense, I'd've left you there. Alas." He clicked his tongue. Harry frowned, and opened his mouth to say something.

"Ahh, Harry, good to see you're out of bed," said a tired, wheezy voice. Both Harry and Draco turned to see Dumbledore walking toward them.

"Uh, yeah." Harry said. "How long have I been… unconscious?"

"Approximately two weeks," Dumbledore said. "As you can see," he gestured to the piles of candies and gifts, "you have many admirers."

"Er…" Harry said. "Yeah."

"Harry, I certainly hate to press something so emotionally stressing on you at a delicate time such as this," Dumbledore said, "but there is an urgent need to send your parents back to their own time."

Harry nodded, somewhat unhappy.

"But that will wait until tomorrow. For now, rest." Dumbledore said. "Back to bed with you. And you as well, Draco."

Harry and Draco both retreated to their beds, and as Draco went, Harry could have sworn he saw the blond boy smile—a real smile.

~`~

The morning dawned clear and cold, and Harry made his way up the stairs to Dumbledore's office, Hermione and Ron at his side. Hermione held his hand tightly.

The small, cluttered office was packed with people. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, McGonagall and Snape behind him. The adult Remus Lupin, and Charlie and Bill Weasley—the Weasleys who were off Ginny-detail for the time—were leaning against the far wall. They were the only members of the Order of the Phoenix present. Luna Lovegood was standing with Cho Chang, Ernie McMillan, and several of the other members of Dumbledore's Army.

Ron broke away and went to stand beside Padma as they entered the room. The dark haired girl gripped his hand tightly. Draco came in shortly after them, along with the Weasley twins, who were playing bookends to their baby sister. Harry smiled when he saw Ginny, but the red-headed girl slipped from between her brothers and moved to shadow Draco as he took a seat on a wooden bench beside the large, empty space in front of the windows. Harry imagined steam issuing from Ron and the twins's ears. Ron was gritting his teeth.

Hermione was smiling, and Harry took her hand and stepped forward.

James, Lily, Sirius, and Remus came from the small room off of Dumbledore's office. Harry was happy to see his mother holding on to James's arm. Remus was scanning the room, and Sirius looked very annoyed, indeed.

Hermione pushed Harry forward, and Lily reached out to her son. Harry stepped into the red-haired girl's arms, and let her hug him, holding on. He didn't want to let go, didn't want her to leave, even though she was so young to be his mother.

Lily finally, reluctantly, let him go. She pressed a quick kiss into his cheek, then stepped away, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. James looked at Harry, but said nothing. He went into the empty floor space with Lily. Sirius trailed after them.

Remus caught Lily's eye, and the girl nodded. The werewolf walked over to Ginny, who was leaning against Draco's shoulder, the blond boy's arm wrapped tightly around her waist. He pressed a small, silver object into her hand.

"I always thought I'd lost this, but now I know where it went," Remus said. Ginny looked up at him, startled. "Take care of her, will you?" he asked Draco, then leaned forward and kissed Ginny, before retreating, red-faced, back to his friends.

"It is now time to return things to their rightful place," Dumbledore said, standing. "Goodbyes have been said, and so, without further ado…"

Dumbledore raised his wand. Everyone made sure they were out of the square of floor that would become the portal back through time.

At the last moment, as Dumbledore began to speak the incantation, James raised his hand in a silent wave to his son.

Tears streaked down Harry's cheeks, and he waved at his father, knowing this would be the last time he ever saw them, while he was living.

"I love you Harry!" Lily called, as Dumbledore continued to recite the spell.

There was a burst of light, and the occupants of the room were temporarily blinded.

Harry blinked away spots, and when he could see again…

Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus remained in the room, still standing within the square.

The spell had not worked.


	16. Fifteen : The Solution

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.

Notes: Thanks so much to Kathy, for beta, and for helping over rough spots plotwise. Love ya, babe. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me such wonderful feedback. Thanks also to my mom, who has asked me so many times whether I've written more, and maintains that it will always be Ron/Hermione. Even though… eww.

Through Time

Fifteen: The Solution

James stood in stunned silence, looking around at the group that still remained in Dumbledore's office. Remus had his eyes closed, and a murmur ran through the gathered crowd.

"Oh my," said Dumbledore, looking mildly shocked. "My, my."

Lily looked up at James. "It didn't work," she said.

"Bloody hell," said several Weasley brothers.

Dumbledore agreed wholeheartedly.

~`~

Lily and James were sitting on the steps just outside Honeyduke's. Hogsmeade was slowly emptying of Hogwarts' students as the sun began to creep below the horizon and a chill began to settle more firmly in the air. It was cold, but Lily couldn't feel it. She was numb.

She vaguely recognized the sounds of James unwrapping candies beside her. She could hear a clicking noise, but was unsure what it was. Then she realized that it was her teeth chattering.

"Shite, James," she said. "It's cold."

"Yes," James said.

"We should go in," she said.

"I'll wait with you as long as you intend to sit here," James told her. Lily could smell cinnamon on his breath.

"Oh," Lily said. James waited for her to say something else, and she knew that he expected her to explain why they were sitting outside in the cold and the snow on the steps of a candy store while the shadows were growing around them and they MIGHT be late back to the castle. Lily said nothing.

"Is there a reason we're sitting here?" he finally asked.

"This is wrong, James," she said after a moment. "We were supposed to go back. We did what we came to do, and now we can't get back. We're supposed to go back."

"I know," James said. "Dumbledore wants to try again, though. He's trying to figure out what went wrong."

Lily was silent again.

"Do you think that we have to be in that hallway?" Lily asked. James shrugged. He was damned cold.

"There are a lot of variables, Lily. It could be anything." James said.

"Maybe Harry has to be there," Lily said. She stood up. "That's got to be it. We have to be in the hall, and Harry has to be with us. Come on, James, I have to go see Dumbledore!"

She stood up and headed back towards the castle at a run—or as quickly as she could manage with her feet sliding in the snow and slush. James chased after her slipping and falling in the slush once, and standing to find himself very wet and cold, and muddy.

They raced for the gargoyle, intent on telling Dumbledore of Lily's idea.

~`~

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat at a table in the library, in silence. They simply stared at each other.

"Malfoy," Ron finally croaked.

"Yeah," Harry said. Ron's face was grayish-green, and clashed horribly with his flaming red hair. It didn't look very good with his freckles, either.

"Well," Hermione said, the voice of reason in the situation, as usual. "He is quite good looking," she said. Harry looked at her, green eyes wide with shock. "Oh, come on Harry. He is. I mean, of course I wouldn't want to be his girlfriend, because I'm yours, but he is quite gorgeous. Not that you aren't. But I can certainly understand where Ginny is coming from."

"He's MALFOY!" Ron cried. Madam Pince came toward them. Ron cringed.

"Out of my library," Pince hissed. "Go on with you! All you do is sit about talking, so out to your common rooms with you!"

She came after Ron, hitting him about the head with her wand. Hermione actually giggled as they ran from the library.

~`~

"I suppose anything is worth a try," Dumbledore said. "I think it best that you return to your own time as soon as possible. Prolonged stays in another time are extremely hazardous to one's health."

"How do you know?" Lily asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"My dear girl, I cannot tell you my secrets," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you find Harry."

~`~

An hour later, they were gathered in the hallway where James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily had first appeared. Instead of the large congregation that had gathered that morning in Dumbledore's office, only McGonagall, Snape, Dumbledore, the four travelers, and Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were present. Hermione and Ginny hung back near the wall, watching, Ginny clutching Hermione's arm. Something was digging through the fabric of Hermione's robes, and into the skin beneath. She said nothing.

Dumbledore was standing silently, with Snape and McGonagall muttering to each other behind him, his dark blue robes almost black in the faint light from the wall sconces.

"Goodbye," he said plainly, and lifted his wand into the air, beginning the incantation that would send Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus back to their own time.

"Wait," Ginny said, and everyone turned to look at her, even Dumbledore, whose eyebrows seemed to be launching from his forehead in surprise.

"Miss Weasley?" McGonagall said, her voice strained, and annoyed.

"I… I have to…" Ginny stuttered, and her face turned scarlet. She rushed forward and kissed the sixteen-year-old Remus Lupin firmly on the lips. "Thank you," she said, and fled into the shadows down the hall.

Everyone stood in silence for a moment, before Sirius let out a bark of laughter and clapped his friend on the back. Remus blushed and ducked his head.

"Now then," Dumbledore said, a soft smile lighting his wizened features. "Any last kisses?"

"Yeah!" James declared, and swept Lily off of her feet. The red-headed girl shrieked and slapped at him. The small, gathered group laughed.

"Then I bid you all farewell," Dumbledore said, his old blue eyes twinkling as he raised his wand once more and began the incantation to send the four travelers back to their own time.

Lily reached out suddenly and locked her arms around Harry, hugging him tightly.

"Never forget me," She said, then the weight of her body against Harry's was gone, and so was Lily.


	17. Epilogue : Never Forget

Disclaimer: All characters herein except those otherwise noted belong to J.K. Rowling, who I think, on occasion, to be some sort of goddess. Inspired by another fic of mine, and throught out while sitting through much boredom at work. Spoilers for all five books, I suppose.  
  
Notes: Thanks to Kathy for reading these (not this one, probably) before I post them, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters. I appreciate it so, so much. Thanks.  
  
Through Time  
  
Epilogue: Never Forget  
  
Seventeen-year-old Harry James Potter folded his school robes into his trunk for the last time, reaching one hand up to brush dark hair from his eyes where it had grown too long since his last haircut. His fingers brushed lovingly over a worn scarlet and gold necktie, much to small to have ever been his own.  
  
He smiled down at it, before placing it lovingly into the trunk and closing the top. Around the room he heard other trunks closing-the last time these trunks would close in the boys' dormitory of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He turned around, looking at his friends. Seamus Finnigan with his close cropped blond hair and innocent smile, who was a friend, though he may not have always taken Harry's side in things. Dean Thomas, his hair grown longer and braided to his head, his teeth so white in his dark skin as he joked with Seamus, dark eyes glittering with happiness.  
  
Harry looked to Neville, grown taller and out of his baby fat, his eyes so slightly haunted by deaths that had occurred, both at his hands and at the hands of others-his father had passed away the summer between sixth and seventh year, and his mother had gone on the following winter. His dark hair was carefully fixed in a muggle style, and his brown eyes momentarily caught Harry's, giving him a smile that meant everything and nothing at the same time, such a guarded thing.  
  
Harry turned to Ron last, his best friend. Ron had grown his hair out long, similar to his brother Bill's (drove his mother insane, that did), and had finally grown into his lanky frame. He grinned at Harry.  
  
"We're going home Harry. No more school, ever!" Ron declared. The other boys cheered.  
  
Harry said nothing. Hogwarts had been the best home he had ever known, much better than the ten years he'd spent with the Dursley's, much better than any summer he'd spent there. He planned to move into a flat in London, maybe alone.  
  
Maybe not, he thought, and smiled to himself.  
  
~`~  
  
Hermione was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, her long hair, though still slightly bushy, falling around her face in dark waves. She traced patterns in the dirt with her toes, not looking up at her two companions. Blaise Zabini, dark haired Slytherin goddess, sat beside her, regal in the way she held herself. She and Hermione had become close-closer than Hermione had become to any Gryffindors in Hermione's year-because of shared ordeal. On Hermione's other side was Padma Patil, her deeply tanned skin seeming to shimmer in the summer sunlight. She and Blaise were threading slender golden and scarlet ribbons into tiny braids in Hermione's hair.  
  
"I don't want to leave," Hermione said.  
  
"I think you'll change your mind," Blaise said, her voice soft and deep as she spoke.  
  
"I know someone else who doesn't want to leave," Padma whispered, and motioned with her head to the young couple across the courtyard, a still life made of living fire, and living ice-Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley.  
  
Hermione smiled.  
  
~`~  
  
". The house cup will be awarded to Gryffindor, as you can see by the decorations. Good show!" Dumbledore announced. "Now, before we commence eating, I would be happy to have. one moment, I have a list somewhere." he rummaged about in his scarlet robes before withdrawing a slip of parchment. "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Neville Longbottom in the small chamber off the great hall." He paused while everyone looked at each other, then the eight filed out of the hall.  
  
Dumbledore followed them into the room after beginning the feast, and closed the door.  
  
"You have all been through a great many things," Dumbledore began, inviting the eight young men and women to have a seat at a long trestle table that ran the length of the room. "From the time of your birth" he paused and looked pointedly at Harry, then Neville "your lives have been endangered by others' desire for power." His eyes found Draco and Blaise, whose fathers had been executed for the crime of being Death Eaters. "All of you have been through many trials, and you have persevered. You have faced death, and you have triumphed, to sit before me now. I, as well as the other teachers at this school are filled with pride to be able to send you forth from our school."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Harry said, the spokesman for the group of students that he seemed to have banded together.  
  
"Though Ginny and Luna will not be leaving us until next year, I felt it necessary to present all of you with a token of rememberance, a memento to remind you of those who have helped to make you what you are." Dumbledore said. He walked along the table, handing each student a silver clasp, emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest, and with a tiny catch on the side.  
  
"Within these cloak-clasps, you will find ten threads, woven together, to remind you of the unity that you have all showed these last few years. Black and yellow, the colors of Hufflepuff, taken from the tie of Sirius-or Mugwhomp-Black." Dumbledore said.  
  
Harry's eyes widened, and he looked at Hermione, turning his clasp over and opening it.  
  
"Silver and blue, from the tie of Romulus Syclo-our time-traveling Remus Lupin." He looked at Ginny, who looked up at him, her eyes suddenly shining with tears. Draco put his hand on hers then, but he didn't know-Ginny hadn't told him, never would-about the kiss. "Silver and green, from the tie of James Potter-but maybe you know him as Jeremiah James, who taught not only you, but one of our professors, very much."  
  
Harry grinned. Snape had certainly been less evil this term than usual.  
  
"Lastly, if you look closely, you will note that there are two gold and two scarlet threads. One set is from Lily Evans, Harry's mother. The other two are from Harry himself. I'm sure you are all aware that you would not be here together if not for him.  
  
"Now then," Dumbledore said. "You may proceed back into the hall to the feast. Oh, Harry, please remain for another moment, if you would."  
  
All of the students went back into the hall except Harry.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore said, holding out a small pinkish crystal in a velvet- lined box. "This portkey will take us somewhere very, very important."  
  
Harry hesitantly reached out and took hold of the crystal, at the same time as Dumbledore reached out with the hand not protected by the box. Harry felt the familiar tugging behind his navel, and closed his eyes.  
  
Then it stopped, and he opened them, to find himself standing in a graveyard.  
  
"What?" he asked, looking around wildly. Memories of the last time he had been portkeyed to a graveyard surfaced in full force, and he felt sick.  
  
"Read the headstone before you," Dumbledore said.  
  
Harry read it. And read it again. James Potter. Lily Potter. His parents.  
  
"Why.?" Harry asked.  
  
"We wanted you to see where they were buried," said a familiar voice, and Harry turned to see Lupin, his hair more gray, his face tired. "I wanted you to see."  
  
"Thank you," Harry said, and tears began flowing down his cheeks. Lupin moved forward and hugged him, his thin body warm against Harry's. "Thank you."  
  
"We've arranged for you to stay with me until your eighteenth birthday, Harry," Lupin said. "After that, you can go wherever you want."  
  
"Thank you," Harry said again.  
  
"Now," Dumbledore said. "Shall we feast?"  
  
Harry nodded mutely, wiping at his cheeks.  
  
"Would you like to join us, Remus?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"I would never miss the opportunity to attend a Hogwarts feast, sir." Lupin said, smiling.  
  
They went back, and into the feast. Harry sat in the seat saved for him beside Hermione. It seemed the entire school had mixed up, milled around until Draco Malfoy was sitting at the Gryffindor table, much to Harry's surprise. Next to Ginny, which still made Ron foam at the mouth. The Gryffindor table seemed to be very full, in fact, with Padma Patil sitting between her boyfriend and her sister, Luna Lovegood cuddled on the bench next to Neville, and Blaise sitting much closer to Seamus than Harry ever would have expected.  
  
The moment his bottom touched the seat, Draco stood.  
  
"I'd like to make a toast-and you're all going to humor me, thank you very much-to the end of the war, the end of our schooling, the end of an era. and to Harry Potter." Draco said. He lifted his goblet high above his head, as did the students sitting around Harry.  
  
"To Harry!" they chorused, and drank from their glasses.  
  
"To Dumbledore!" Draco shouted, his voice ringing clear over the hall. The whole of the hall echoed it, voices ringing high into the enchanted ceiling. "To Hogwarts."  
  
The echoing cheers rang out into the sky, through the castle.  
  
A fitting end to their stay at Hogwarts, Harry though.  
  
Fitting, indeed.  
  
The End  
  
Thank you again, to all those who read and reviewed, and I hope to see you in the possible sequel! 


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